A Warrior's Courtship
by Erik'sTrueAngel
Summary: A courtship is a delicate matter. However, in these dark times, one does not have the luxury to wait for a considerate amount of time. This is a look into Darcy and Elizabeth's engagement to the wedding and to the infamous mid-credit scene. This deadly couple has plenty to look forward to.
1. Chapter 1

Rated: M

Genre: Romance/Humor

Summary: A courtship is a delicate matter. However, in these dark times, one does not have the luxury to wait for a considerate amount of time. This is a look into Darcy and Elizabeth's engagement to the wedding and to the infamous mid-credit scene. This deadly couple has plenty to look forward to.

Disclaimer: I do not own anything of _Pride and Prejudice and Zombies_. The honor goes to the brilliantly talented Jane Austen, the wonderful twisted idea of Seth Grahame-Smith, and to the man who made this a reality Burr Steers.

A/N: I started this about a year ago right after I finished writing _Midnight Trainings_. Unfortunately, I was hit with writer's block and I had several other stories that I wanted to finish before I returned to this. But I'm here again with this PPZ story! I hope you enjoy this as much as I did writing it and please don't forget to leave a review!

A Warrior's Courtship

By: Erik'sTrueAngel

 **Chapter 1**

The destruction of Hingham Bridge was a victory the living could proclaim. Many of the undead were blown to bits from the blast; the rest fell to their demise into the canal. Once the smoke cleared it was seen that the remains were piling up in broken zombie body parts. There was enough gunpowder left to arrange another explosion to eradicate the fallen, and to thus avoid, a breach of the remaining unmentionables that were unreservedly stuck on the other side.

Altogether, the zombies suffered a severe number of casualties. As for the living, only two were injured.

Elizabeth Bennet was found holding onto the still form of Colonel Darcy, tears streaming down her soot-covered face, as she beseeched him over and over again to wake up. It was her oldest sister, Jane, and his good friend, Bingley, who discovered them. They had witnessed the final horrifying seconds of the two charging upon Elizabeth's horse, escaping the horde of zombies that were rapidly coming their way. There was little to be done once Bingley gave the order, but as soon as the dust and smoke settled, the anxious couple hastened to find what they had undoubtedly believe was the grisly results. Much to their relief, Elizabeth and Darcy were wholly intact; yet, Ghost was not as fortunate. It grieved Jane to see that their beloved horse had perished, but in that moment, her concern was to her sister and praying many thanks to the heavenly Father for returning her to their safe keeping. Likewise went to Mr. Darcy for he risked his life to save Lydia from the clutches of Mr. Wickham.

Jane had not known the depths of Mr. Darcy's attachment to her sister prior to the harrowing rescue, but there was little doubt in her mind that he truly held Lizzy to the highest esteem with his gallantry and selfless acts to recover their lost younger sister. Mr. Bingley did admit as much to her once Elizabeth had suddenly ridden off after Mr. Darcy to St. Lazarus. Of course, neither knew that Elizabeth, herself, was feeling the same regard towards Mr. Darcy until they found her crying over him. For Jane, it was a disconcerting sight to witness for Elizabeth was always the strongest one. The second oldest Bennet hardly ever gave into tears, not even during the grueling trials their Shaolin masters set before them. Not to say her sister was without feeling or capable of such. Elizabeth kept those feelings to herself and refused a living soul to catch her in those vulnerable moments that required an impassioned release.

But bared she was to those in her presence—stripped of her defenses, helpless to the design of fate—as she tearfully implored for a life to waken.

Her sister was distressed and it was up to Jane to provide the strength required for the next tribulation.

"He won't wake up," Elizabeth said, her voice a shaky whisper, even as she was slowly lifted to her feet. Turning to Jane, she continued: "Why won't he wake?"

"It'll be all right Lizzy," Jane insisted, although even she was uncertain for she was always the one with the disposition for believing in the good of everyone and in any situation. The direness was evident and the urge to comfort with placating words would sound false regardless how serene her countenance was. Inwardly, Jane feared the worst had happened and she knew not how to tell her despondent sister.

"He's breathing!" Bingley declared his relief and elated mien returning hope to the sisters. "He has a weak pulse, but I daresay Darcy is alive!"

Elizabeth's knees buckled from underneath her, and Jane was there to catch her as the former could not help the exalting praise of thanks to God above for bringing him back to her. Darcy was alive. He will heal. That was all she could ask for since there was so much left unsaid between them.

The soldiers were coming towards them. A medical officer arrived to take note of the wounded and confirmed Bingley's announcement that Mr. Darcy was alive, but he needed immediate attention. As far as he could ascertain, the explosion had knocked Darcy out but there was no knowing the extent of his injuries until properly examined.

It was to the Bennet sisters' disappointment that Mr. Darcy was removed and they could not accompany him. Bingley assured them that he would not abandon his friend and would write to them of his condition as soon as he received a report. Jane told him that their family was currently staying with Lady Catherine in Rosings Park and would find them there. He nodded, bowing to each sister as he took his leave.

A soldier nearby offered his services to aid Elizabeth as she was having trouble walking on her own. With his help, both he and Jane were able to cross the remaining portion of Hingham Bridge with Elizabeth as they made their way over to the medical tent. There they found Lydia, still in shock from the ordeal. Despite being surrounded by many attentive soldiers, Lydia was uncharacteristically subdued and upon seeing her sisters, she did weep for joy. She managed to rush over and embrace them vigorously that Elizabeth gasped in pain.

"Forgive me!" Lydia wailed, not taking heed of her sister's discomfort for she was too overcome with contrition. "I had no notion of Mr. Wickham's villainy! The scoundrel had me locked up, chained, and there were so many zombies! I feared they would turn me and I would never see you, Kitty, Mary, Mama, or Papa again!"

"There, there Lydia," Jane soothed. "You're here with us. But Lizzy—"

Recalling Elizabeth riding back to beat the impending obliteration of the bridge, Lydia sobbed anew but did release her sister so she could be looked after. While Elizabeth was being attended, Jane consoled Lydia until she collapsed from exhaustion. Regardless of Lydia's propensity for the dramatics, the alarmed eldest was reassured Lydia would be well and she was taken to a cot where she could recuperate. Elizabeth was pronounced to be in good health. Apart from some scrapes and bruises, she had been luckily unscathed from the blast.

 _Mr. Darcy absorbed most of it_ , Elizabeth surmised to herself. _Even now he's still saving me and my family._

Once Elizabeth and Lydia had been cleared for travel, all three Bennets departed for Rosings Park where they could be reunited with their family. They were quite sullen since they were in the dark about Mr. Darcy's condition. Lydia remained for the most part of the sojourn silent as she reflected her close brush with death and how her rescuer could very well be in peril. For a seemingly proud and haughty man, Mr. Darcy disabused all their previous conjectures about his character with his recent activity. They had so much to be thankful for that neither Bennet sister was certain how to express their felicitous gratitude. Then there was the matter of his relations. Lady Catherine would want to hear about her nephew that Elizabeth worried how the news would affect her. Would Lady Catherine turn the Bennets out from her protection? After all, it was her sister that Mr. Darcy took upon himself to extricate. She could rightly blame them for his injuries and seek retribution in some way.

Elizabeth dared not voice her concerns to her sisters. If Lady Catherine demanded justice for her nephew's demise, then she would accept the responsibility and take whatever punishment she might deem proper. It would be an honor to die by the hand of England's greatest zombie slayer. Perhaps she could reunite with Mr. Darcy…

 _Don't think so! Mr. Darcy is a warrior. He will fight to live. He will not give up._ Elizabeth closed her mind off from any further unwarranted thoughts. The sooner they arrive at Rosings, the better.

xxXXxx

Their arrival at Rosings was a mixture of somber joy. They had sent a post ahead about Lydia's recovery and Mrs. Bennet was too overjoyed to see her youngest was alive and unscathed from any zombie bites. After embracing her, Mrs. Bennet's nerves (which have been very overwhelmed over this entire predicament) were miraculously cured in having her sweet Lydia returned to her. However, her nerves took her once more when it was revealed about Wickham's dalliance with the devil.

"That poor, dear man!" Mrs. Bennet wailed, collapsing in the nearest footman's arms. "To be stricken so unfairly! If he hadn't been infected, then he would surely have married Lydia!"

"There, there Mrs. Bennet," Mr. Bennet placated with mocking indifference. "There is much to be grateful for with your three daughters in good health. As for 'poor, dear' Mr. Wickham… I would say God had him judged rightly so. He did, after all, absconded Lydia without nary a concern for her family."

Yet, Mrs. Bennet would not be deprived from a decent round of hysteric mourning over losing the possibility of a married daughter. Even if he was turning into a zombie, she had no doubt he would have been the finest and gentile of all zombie gentlemen in the entire realm. However, much to everyone's astonishment who knew her, Lydia declared she was not sorry for Wickham's transgressions and that she was all too happy that Mr. Darcy got to her in time before she was compromised for eternity. "Even though he was an officer, I daresay I would not have married him! Not after his deplorable conduct," Lydia announced.

This sudden growth in maturity rendered Mr. Bennet quite speechless as did Kitty and Mary. Mrs. Bennet was too preoccupied with her woes to have noticed her youngest change in heart. Lady Catherine, who had not the opportunity to know Lydia well, was not in the mind to feel sorry for George Wickham. He was her late brother-in-law steward's son and not worthy enough to have her notice. However, it was her favorite nephew she wanted to know.

It was difficult for Elizabeth to share with her what had happened, but she called upon the strength of her inner warrior to look Lady Catherine in the eye to tell her that Mr. Darcy was injured and his condition could be very grave. Lady Catherine did not bat an eye nor let any other emotion show on her countenance as Elizabeth regaled what happened on Hingham Bridge. Lydia supplied her side of the story as well and commemorated on how brave Mr. Darcy had been to save her and how he refused to let Mr. Wickham get the best of him.

"I daresay he better not," Lady Catherine said with her usual stoic disposition. "Darcy not only has the blood of an Englishman, but that of a spiritual samurai. I do know his father had sent Mr. Wickham to Kyoto as well; however, his birth prevents him from achieving the same status and skill as Darcy. Well, I suppose there is nothing to do but to wait on my nephew's condition. You are all more than welcome to stay until we know without doubt that the border has been secured."

All seven of the Bennet family thanked Lady Catherine for her continued generosity. Mrs. Bennet had managed to pull herself together to bow and profusely thanked her for her magnanimity, which certainly could have rivaled Mr. Collins' propensity for giving compliments of a hyperbolic nature. The family thought it best to retreat for the time being to reacquaint themselves (Mr. Bennet decided the library needed a proper introduction so the ladies could have their time alone), but Lady Catherine requested Miss Elizabeth Bennet to stay. _This is it_ , Elizabeth thought as she turned to Jane to assure her sister that all was well. She didn't wish Jane to fret over her even if Lady Catherine desired her death in recompense for Mr. Darcy's injuries. She would accept the price no matter what and she will not allow Jane to share the blame.

Once they were alone, Elizabeth lifted her gaze to the warrior woman and said steadfastly: "While I am quite aware of the terrible news I bore to your ladyship, I am willing to take full responsibility for Mr. Darcy's condition. It was my sister that he decided to take upon in rescuing, which was my burden alone, and I can only be remorseful that it was not I who suffered." In supplication, Elizabeth got down to her knees and bowed her head. "I am offering myself to your ladyship for whatever punishment you deem worthy. Even death if it is necessary."

There was a minute of silence before Lady Catherine bid her to rise. Elizabeth did with her hands clasped in front of her. She only prayed that Lady Catherine will be swift in her decision so not to keep her conscience in further suspense. To her astonishment, Lady Catherine only had this to say:

"You're a rarity indeed, Miss Bennet. Not only have you impressed me with your fighting skills and your womanly resolve, but the fact that you are willing to sacrifice yourself for the sake of my nephew. Mind you, I am not at all pleased with his choice to run off after your sister, but I can only surmise that his reasons and motivations were selfishly his alone. You do not strike me as the type of woman to plea for a man to assist you in a task that you are fully capable of undertaking. To do so would go against your character and your reputation as a warrior of the deadly arts. With that said, your offering of yourself to my designs is to be commended but not necessary. I do not wish to punish you for my nephew's choices. If anything, there is much to be celebrated with your sister's safe return. Now… go Miss Bennet and be with your family."

Elizabeth could not believe what she heard. She was not going to be held accountable? Surely, the warrior's code insisted some blood price…

"I daresay you are bewildered Miss Bennet," Lady Catherine imparted. "Pray, if it pleases you and your conscience, then I can insist your penance should occur at my leisure whenever I see fit. Would that be sufficient?"

"Lady Catherine…" Elizabeth started.

"A warrior with your skills should not be wasted. I can think of useful employments that require you to be alive than dead. Do you accept?"

Without hesitation, Elizabeth acquiesced. "Then it is settled. You may leave Miss Bennet. I expect to see you at dinner."

xxXXxx

They did not receive word from Mr. Bingley until two days later. The dispatch was sent as soon as Mr. Darcy was transported to a hospital in Essex. It was written in Lady Catherine's name as she was his relation so unfortunately Jane or Elizabeth did not see it. The good lady did share the contents in that Mr. Darcy's sister, Miss Darcy, was informed in Derbyshire about her brother's welfare. As to the extent of his injures, Lady Catherine did not disclose the information but revealed that Mr. Darcy did wake at least once before succumbing to unconsciousness once more.

As much as Elizabeth wanted to inquire further to Mr. Darcy's well-being, she knew it was not in her place to make such requests. If Lady Catherine wished to share everything, then that was her choice. As it were, the Bennets had no intimate connections to Mr. Darcy and it would be highly improper if Mr. Bingley solicited a separate and private letter to Jane about Mr. Darcy. Although, Elizabeth recalled, it had not stopped Mr. Darcy from sending his own letter to her to explain his actions, but part of her had wished Mr. Bingley put aside propriety for the moment. The only solace she had from Lady Catherine was that Mr. Darcy was receiving the proper medical care and that his waking indicated a positive sign. She could rule out a severe head injury.

Days turned into weeks.

Over time, the residents in Rosings received news that zombie reportings have been few within the county. Hertfordshire did have a minor incident of the undead already present but as for the canal itself… there had been contradictory reports. Some say it was holding, while others say zombies did breach it and would be attacking at any moment. Since the evidence clearly provided the contrary to the latter, there was plenty of unease among the people nevertheless.

Word on Mr. Darcy's state had been a fixture on Elizabeth's anxious mind. Since the first letter there were at least three more from Mr. Bingley to Lady Catherine on his friend's health. Each time a new one arrived, Lady Catherine would read it without a hint on her mien as to what the contents contained. She would give a perfunctory nod; lips pressed firmly together, and then continued the conversation or activity as if she hadn't paused at all. On occasion she would give updates to the family about her nephew usually at either Mr. or Mrs. Bennet's query. Of course, those questions (from Mr. Bennet) would be a direct result of Elizabeth's unspoken look. Her mother was too daft to pick up on her subtle cues unlike her father, but Mr. Bennet could not help but ponder his second eldest daughter's interest. He knew he owed Mr. Darcy a great deal for risking his life for his youngest, yet he could not fathom why Lizzy had this keen interest. As far as he knew, she strongly disliked the man. And who could blame her? The gentleman did her a poor disservice by slighting her. Perhaps there was more to the St. Lazarus rescue then his girls let on.

One afternoon Mr. Bennet summoned Elizabeth after she finished her morning combat training. She was still wearing her sparring clothes when she entered the library, which was his new favorite place in Rosings. He knew he was fortunate that Lady Catherine did not mind he whittled his hours there.

"Daughter, sit," he commanded in his soft spoken way. Elizabeth did and looked up at her father expectantly. "It has come to my attention that whenever Lady Catherine receives a letter in regards to Mr. Darcy, you my fiercely warrior, are in want of news about him. Am I wrong to come up with such a conclusion?"

Elizabeth blushed. She hadn't realized she was transparent about it. She had hoped her father would take her cue as a necessity of politeness. Apparently, she was wrong. "Well… it is only fair since he did risk his life for Lydia's. And… he did absorb most of the blast on Hingham Bridge."

"Indeed. You are telling me that your reasons are only benevolent for his actions? Not for any other personal reason?" It was not accusatory but strictly curiosity. "I believed you to be indifferent towards Mr. Darcy or has something changed that I am not aware of? Come Lizzy. There is no need for secrets."

"I was. Indifferent but it did change. Mr. Darcy… He was not the man I perceived him to be. In fact, I was led to believe an entirely different story about Mr. Darcy and I have my own shame and guilt to blame for being so prejudiced. Mr. Darcy is a remarkable man and an excellent warrior to have at one's side in battle. He has faults, yes, but who does not? To be truthful, I have misconstrued some of his flaws to fit with the likeness that I wanted to see and blinded myself and others as a result. So you see Papa… I have done him a terrible dishonor."

"I see," Mr. Bennet replied, stroking his chin pensively. "A dishonor that you speak of would certainly earn you a dozen lashes from Master Liu."

Elizabeth did not wince at the thought. If anything, she deserved those lashes! "I have offered myself to Lady Catherine in contrition for having putting her nephew in the situation that he is in. She has declined to discipline but did offer to use my skills when she sees fit. I trust that is an acceptable substitute."

"If Lady Catherine believes it, then it must be," her father said. "Although, I do believe there is something vital missing. Could it be that my Lizzy likes Mr. Darcy?"

"If I did then what do you think?"

"Despite his propensity for being an unpleasant fellow, I daresay he is rich enough and you would have fine clothes and carriages to be certain. Your mother will be very happy indeed at such a match."

"Have you any other objection other than his wealth?"

"I do not. I do know you are not mercenary and if his riches did not entice you before… it will certainly will not in the present. Unlike your sisters, you have always been a practical and sensible creature with a deadly reckoning to be had. This would be nothing if you really liked him."

"I do like him," Elizabeth confessed. "These past weeks have been a torment to me. He is all amiable and agreeable and he has done our family the type of service that cannot ever be repaid. I have come to learn so much about him that he is the kind of man I can respect and truly esteemed. His skills are an equal match to my own and he does not seem to be the type of husband who would ask me to hang up my sword."

"Well, I see the only recourse must be a marriage if he so desires it and when he has regained his health. You have my blessing Lizzy."

Her eyes widened with shock. In regards to weddings, she knew her mother would be thrilled, but her father… Mr. Bennet had always expressed his displeasure at the thought of his daughters being married and would much prefer if they stick to their training so they could survive. For him to give his blessing on an institution that he did not like was staggering!

Noticing his daughter's expression, Mr. Bennet let out a chuckle. "I never thought I would live the day to see you so flabbergasted! Let me assure you, my dear, that I could not have parted with you to anyone less worthy. If your praises of Mr. Darcy are what you say them to be, then I have no reason to object to a union that would make you happy. You will not suffer a fool and I trust your judgment that he was not the original character we all thought. And since you are anxious to hear about your young man's progress then I shall endeavor to make the proper inquiries."

"Thank you Papa," she breathed, rising to embrace him.

"Just think… If Mr. Darcy does come out of this alive and restored, then you will have a mother who will be very affectionate more so than ever. Are you prepared for that Lizzy?"

She laughed heartily. "Sir, I would expect nothing less!"

"Nor I," he conceded. "Perhaps he will regret not dying in the first place."

xxXXxx

It was close to two months since Hingham Bridge when a letter was posted from Mr. Bingley to Lady Catherine in the hopes that he and his sister could seek refuge for a short time at Rosings.

During dinner, Lady Catherine made the announcement of the two additional members to their party and that they should be expecting them soon. Mrs. Bennet could not withstand her glee at the idea of Mr. Bingley and her Jane being together once more. Maybe this time he will propose after all! Mr. Collins, who had joined them, was also eager to make Mr. Bingley's acquaintance as he was the friend to his lady's nephew and regretted not making himself known at the ball in Netherfield. Meanwhile, Jane was inwardly pleased to know Mr. Bingley was coming to Rosings. She had often thought about since Hingham and wondered if his feelings had changed. He was most gracious when she rescued him from his grenade and he was comforting during that god awful wait for Lizzy and Mr. Darcy to return. Maybe there was a chance he would make an offer of marriage to her. However, she dared not raise her hopes lest this visit was temporary as Lady Catherine said it was.

Elizabeth was also pleased with the news concerning Mr. Bingley. Despite the bold request for someone who had not been formally introduced as far as she knew, she was rather surprised at Mr. Bingley's forwardness since he was mostly of a passive and quiet disposition. Then again, there were plenty in his past letters to Lady Catherine that were privy only to her so something in them must have excused his impertinence. While she did not wish to renew her acquaintance with Miss Bingley, Elizabeth knew she would be willing to put up with her for Jane's sake. However, Elizabeth could not promise her civility if Miss Bingley continued her antagonistic attitude as she had done in Netherfield. If she did not like what passed through Miss Bingley's lips, then Elizabeth vowed she would seek retribution.

As for another matter, Lady Catherine did not add if Mr. Bingley had further news of Mr. Darcy's welfare. Elizabeth had hoped she would mention something new and she sought her father's countenance for aid. Mr. Bennet (sensing his favorite daughter's distress) calmly dabbed his mouth with his napkin, and cleared his throat.

"Lady Catherine," he bade. "Has there been any word on Mr. Darcy? It's been a while since we heard a new report on his condition. I am curious to learn how he is faring considering I owe him a debt of gratitude for recovering my daughter."

"Ah, yes! Indeed!" chimed in Mrs. Bennet, nodding her head. "I know not what I have done if my Lydia was not returned to us!"

"Mama," said Lydia, having the decency to look down to hide her blush from the others.

"Well, it is true. I think I would be quite forlorn if I had lost her." Mrs. Bennet resumed her eating of the succulent piece of beef. "I had lost my appetite when we realized Lydia was missing. Even now my nerves are flaring up when I think about what could have happened if Mr. Darcy hadn't arrived in time."

Of course no one dare mentioned that Mrs. Bennet's lack of appetite did not seem to hinder her consumption at the moment. The attendants of Rosings had learned quickly about Mrs. Bennet's swifts in mood and how the best course of action is to not say anything at all. Contradicting her would only serve to bring continuous unwanted attention and not a moment's rest.

"Of course," Lady Catherine adroitly answered. "I daresay any mother would feel such a loss acutely." Setting her gaze on Mr. Bennet, she continued, "As for my nephew, there are tidings of good news. He is conscious and very much on the way for a full recovery. Mr. Bingley mentioned that Mr. Darcy was most anxious to return to the canal to see how our men are faring with the unmentionables. How long he will be there I do not know. My nephew is nothing if not thorough in his missions. He will return once he is satisfied."

"That is good to hear," Mr. Bennet concluded. He gave Elizabeth a covert wink and she could not help the slight smile from forming. Mr. Darcy was all right! The news was such a relief to her. Perhaps Providence was smiling down upon them at last.

The following afternoon Mr. Bingley and Miss Bingley arrived. He was in good spirits and Caroline was in a dour mood, but she brightened once they were brought to Lady Catherine. Elizabeth could not help but note on how flattering Miss Bingley was to her ladyship and even had something pleasant to say towards Lady Anne. Clearly, she was doing her best to impress Mr. Darcy's relations and Elizabeth had to hold back a smirk over how indifferent Lady Catherine was to her overtures.

After the cordial greetings and customary inquiries, Mr. Bingley was asked about the canal and if there was any need for alarm.

"I fear I do not have the answer to that question. Lately, I have been looking after my family. Unfortunately, my other sister and her husband did not fare well. They were attacked by the unmentionables while I was fighting and I thank God that Caroline was not present."

"Indeed. It was horrible what happened. It was by the grace of God that I had a headache and could not attend the theatre. Poor Louisa and Mr. Hurst," Caroline said, her eyes misting over at the loss of her sister.

"I am very sorry for your loss. In these times, we all suffer casualties," Lady Catherine shared.

Bingley agreed. "I wish I could assure your ladyship and the rest of you about the canal; however, we should have word about it from Darcy."

Elizabeth managed to contain her countenance at the mention of Mr. Darcy's name. Did that mean he was to arrive sooner than they thought?

"Yes, you mentioned in your last letter that my nephew has gone off to the front lines to observe the situation. Did he say how long he will be gone?"

"Not long," Bingley reported. "In fact, I expect him to be here in Rosings quite soon."

"Splendid. We will have his usual room prepared in case his arrival is a lot sooner. This is good news to be certain."

 _Indeed it is_ , Elizabeth thought, smiling to herself. Then her smile vanished as she wondered what would she say and how she should behave around Mr. Darcy. Their last encounter had been awkward to say the least and the only sensible conversation was about Lydia. While Elizabeth's feelings had changed, she could not help but ponder Mr. Darcy's feelings. Will they be indifferent towards each other? Or will he make another offer for her hand? So concerned she was on his behalf that she hadn't considered the repercussions if his wishes had changed. Never had Elizabeth felt so helpless or powerless that she knew not where she stood. She could only pray that Mr. Darcy will be merciful towards her.

xxXXxx

It was a cheery, sunny morning and everyone within Rosings seemed to be in high spirits. For Lady Catherine and her daughter, it was close to high spirits as they could maintain on their reserve countenances. Lady Anne (in Mr. Collins' good opinion) was shown in moderate liveliness with the faintest trace of pallid over her muted features. Her soft groan indicated her obliging thanks for the compliment.

After breakfast, Lady Catherine requested all the ladies to join her in the grand room where they could commence with the cleaning of their muskets and handguns under her supervision. The men, on the other hand, decided to seek their own employment. Mr. Collins announced he would take a stroll around the grounds so he can benefit from the exercise before his wedding day. Mr. Bingley went to Mr. Bennet to privately solicit an audience in the library. There was no denying what his intentions were as Mr. Bingley gazed at his eldest fair daughter when they took their leave. Despite Mr. Bennet's misgivings about his daughters marrying, he knew his Jane loved Mr. Bingley and he would not deny her happiness (or her mother's).

So while the two men were in talks over Bingley's plans, the ladies took their seats in front of Lady Catherine with Mrs. Bennet on her right side. Under the former's scrutiny, all five Bennet girls, Miss Bingley, and Mrs. Jenkinson (for Anne could not hold her own gun) made sure their respective weapons were thoroughly cleaned.

Conversation was sparse as Lady Catherine preferred the quiet when one dealt with weapons. Idle chit-chat can lead to mistakes when one's focus is not entirely on the task. It could result in a gun backfiring or rendered useless when engaged with a zombie or three. Strict she was in these proceedings that one did not dare oppose her expert counsel; except Mrs. Bennet, who could not remain silent for long.

Not in the presence of an intimidating figure could Mrs. Bennet keep to her own musings. It began with a simple remark about the weather and how the sun seemed to chase away the dreary days of late. Then she went on to say how grateful she was for Lady Catherine to take in her family; her generosity would never be forgotten and how magnificent and well-trained her Black Guards were and how she never felt safer in her whole life (even though her daughters are very well-trained in the deadly arts and she suppose there was some advantages to it). Furthermore, she could not get over how splendid the décor she kept throughout the grandiose manor. She stated how she had never seen such lovely works of art before and where could one obtain such fine pieces.

Lady Catherine bore it well with noncommittal replies although one look upon her mien could see the traces of annoyance. The final comment was in regards to the excellent warrior herself.

"I daresay your eye patch is quite fetching," Mrs. Bennet extolled. "Is it for fashion or function?"

"Function," Lady Catherine answered tersely and the Bennet matriarch had the good decency to look chasten for mentioning a detail that would rather not be discussed.

Meanwhile, Elizabeth kept stealing glimpses at Jane knowing it was matter of time before Mr. Bingley would come to seek an audience with her beloved sister. She knew he loved Jane and there was no doubt in her mind that he will make it official. However, Jane kept a serene composure with only a flicker of a smile gracing her lips. When the footman announced Mr. Bingley's presence, the collective gasps among their mother and the Bennet sisters knew this was _it_.

Jane, hardly containing her countenance, arose and gave her pardons to Lady Catherine so she could speak to Mr. Bingley. Elizabeth gave her a wink and mouthed "I told you so" which Jane blushed but had to concede her sister was right about his affections. The fair-haired Bennet turned to follow Mr. Bingley who gave her a courteous mid-bow as they walked out of the room side-by-side for privacy.

At least that situation would be at last resolved from further interferences. Elizabeth could not contain her joy for Jane since she could not think of a better person who deserved happiness more so than she. After all the heartache and suffering, Jane was finally getting the man of her dreams for there never was a couple so well-matched or well-suited for one another. Not even Miss Bingley's consternation could not ruin this mood.

No, indeed, not during this particular auspicious day.

Besides, Jane's soon to be good fortune, there was also the imminent arrival of another to the party and soon. Elizabeth was anxious to see Mr. Darcy and how well he fared after Hingham Bridge. Her recollection of the previous night told her that Mr. Darcy intended to arrive at Rosings at some point this very day. To think… how much had truly changed since her last visit to Rosings and Hunsford! Gone were the initial feelings of disdain and contempt when she thought about Mr. Darcy. Now, only thoughts of an agreeable nature resided in her mind and how her heart seemed to flutter with anticipation. When she found him at the In-Between, she never had the opportunity to share her recent report about his character or what his letter meant to her. Her focus had been on finding Lydia and if she had known what his intentions was in that moment… She might have accompanied him. Then again, he purposely kept her in the dark to regain her good opinion, and for that, Elizabeth was uncertain if she could forgive herself for practically sending him to his own doom.

" _There isn't a thing Darcy wouldn't do for you," Mr. Bingley told her_.

 _Such insolence to take matters in his own hands! However, I cannot fault him for I would have done the same._ Despite her resolve not to think kindly of him or admit their similarities, Elizabeth knew precisely what she had fought to deny could no longer be tolerated. She and Darcy were the same. He was her other half—a man befitting the skills required for a warrior like herself. He accepted her help in the unmarked zombie grave when he could have dismissed her and handled it on his own. Then there was the look in his eyes that she once mistook as abhorrence was now an admiration that was so tender in its regard that she wondered how she could have been so blind not to see the obvious!

Any other man would have encouraged her to stay away, but not Mr. Darcy. He never once hinted or implied he expected her to relinquish her sword. Even during his ill-worded and poorly executed proposal in Hunsford, he never once stated his expectations she resign herself as a household wife. Back then he wanted her fighting skills alongside with his and Elizabeth prayed the sentiments were no longer extinguished. The idea of marriage was becoming very appealing to her and she hoped she had not missed her chances.

"Mr. Darcy," the footman's voice proclaimed suddenly; the wait no longer an obstacle to Elizabeth's growing expectancy. Her face was warmed at the prospect of seeing Mr. Darcy in the living flesh that she placed her hand over her beating heart as she turned to look over her shoulder.

Her breathing slowed as she watched him enter the room, his countenance looking remarkably well and not as if he was standing at the threshold of Death's doors. Her inspection revealed no markings or scars from the traces of blood that had covered his visage. His gait upon his entrance did not falter or hint of a limp or any possible injury that might impede his movements. In all outward appearances, Mr. Darcy was in the best of health that it would be difficult to believe he had been involved in a bombing nearly eight weeks ago. At least that was the impression he gave. It was slight… very slight but Elizabeth perceived how Mr. Darcy was favoring in leaning to his right as he stood and that his bow was not his usual falling to the waist. She surmised he must have a broken rib that was still healing, but other than that, he was still the same Mr. Darcy she could recall. Time and distance had not changed her newfound esteem.

"My favorite nephew," Lady Catherine delivered. "You have lain unconscious for so long that when we heard you arisen, we feared you had joined the ranks of the undead. Any word from the canal?"

Straight to business the lady warrior contended but Mr. Darcy did not seem affronted that his aunt had not asked after his welfare. After all, she could observe for herself that he was well and she did receive his letters about his recovery. Her little jest was more for her own leisure than anything.

"It's holding for the time being." It was a relief to learn and share that the threat was not going to spill into Hertfordshire or any of the other counties. It had been a fear that Darcy had kept since the siege of London, but any additional information was abruptly interrupted.

The uproarious cry of "yes" echoed the corridor and it was frankly clear that Bingley had asked the question everyone had been waiting keenly for. There was a twitch of amusement on Darcy's lips as he was pleased his friend was able to claim the happiness he had desperately wanted.

Simultaneously, Mrs. Bennet and the rest of her daughters could not hold back their delight as they stood to rush out to congratulate the happy couple. As good news as it was, Miss Bingley followed them out as well as Lady Anne and her companion (it would be rude not to extend the felicitations). Not even the impropriety of the shrieks and shouts from Kitty and Lydia could be frowned upon as Mr. Darcy bowed to each and every lady. The last was his aunt who captured his attention with an imperceptible nod and an intuitive smile for her reasons on leaving was her very own and not to be discern by anyone else (however one could conjecture with her silent dismiss of her guards what it might entail). As for her nephew, he understood what his aunt was doing and it was her subtle way of acknowledging her consent.

Finally, it was Elizabeth Bennet who trailed behind with the high hopes he would call her, and at the same time, dreaded he would. And indeed, he did.

"Mr. Darcy," she said softly, her hands nervously twitching at her side. Never had Elizabeth ever felt so exposed that she was certain her mannerisms would be disconcerting to any who knew her well. For once, this courageous and bold fighter was finding it to be inopportune for her to meet his steady gaze. She scarcely knew herself presently but she had always said her courage rises with every attempt at intimidation. Although, it was not his intention for her to feel that way. It was her recognition of her past prejudices and folly that could have ruined everything. Now clear-headed and open-minded, Elizabeth met his eyes. "You look as if fully mended."

"I am. Thank you." How intent those umber eyes were! And yet, his expression did not betray his inner thoughts or feelings that Elizabeth was uncertain how to proceed in this innocuous discourse. Did he change his mind in regards to her? Did he blame her for his near brush with Death? She knew better than to expect a missive from him, but the past communications had left her completely in the dark! To her astonishment, his next words carried a far more personal touch than any written word could convey. "If it wasn't for you I would have surely perished. You have saved me in more ways than one." Here he inhaled sharply as if to compose himself for the following announcement. "What you said to me on Hingham Bridge…"

"You heard me?" she interjected, completely taken aback by this confession. She had spoken to him in an act of desperation, an impulsive desire of her heart for her feelings to be voiced. In the heat of the moment, Elizabeth knew not what she was hoping to achieve but only the inclination that she must admit to him that she did find him agreeable the first time she laid eyes on him. She could not let him think she loathed him from the beginning.

"I did. It gave me hope."

"What?" A frown marred her brow for truly he did not mean…? Could it be that not all was lost? Her heart pulsed wildly in her breast at the implications surrounding his mode of declaration.

"That your feelings for me might have changed. However, one word from you will silence me forever on the subject." His demeanor shifted and an emotion unlike any other she had witnessed on his face came to light. There was a shy hesitance, a tentative precariousness, that barely concealed the uncertainty and fear that was growing. Vanished was the former confidence and arrogance that once covered his façade. He was no longer a man who knew the outcome on which he was about to ask, but humbler and unassuming. She held the power of his fate and future happiness if she desired not to have him still.

Elizabeth made sure her lips were sealed as a smile threatened to take over. She knew what her answer was and she waited for him to take the next step.

Moving closer to her person, Mr. Darcy finally said what he wished to say, what he should have said, and now he realized the truth to his feelings that it was not she who should feel worthy to have him but rather he felt worthy to have her if she chose him.

"You are the love of my life Elizabeth Bennet. So I ask you now—half in anguish, half in hope—will you do me the great, great honor in taking me as your husband?"

Elizabeth's gentle yes was music to both their ears as she repeated it a second time just so she could be certain of its reality. The rapture that overwhelmed them could not be denied for they have done nothing but refused to accept that they belonged to one another. The first kiss was chaste—new to the feeling, a test of timidity—in case she changed her mind or he decided to withdraw his offer. But it soon became apparent that neither was unwilling to release the other from the agreement as the kiss altered and she was holding him tightly, her hands pressing against the back of his head so he could not move away. However, he had not the slightest intention of moving away as he returned her affections, clasping her to him so this dream could not slip away.

As they were both of a passionate nature, and this being a new development, they reigned in their desires as their lips clung to each other in a slow and tender embrace, tempering the fires that could easily ignite. When the need for air was demanded, they remained in one another's hold, their foreheads touching together. Parting was not an option as they stood there quietly breathing each other in.

TBC…


	2. Chapter 2

A/N: Hi everyone! Thank you so much for reviewing! I am glad you're enjoying this as much as I did writing it. I would have updated yesterday but I had a job interview this morning and needed to prep for it but the next chapter will be up next Sunday. Here we go to the next chapter!

 **Chapter 2**

A courtship is a delicate matter. However, in these dark times, one does not have the luxury to wait for a considerate amount of time. In fact, Darcy was hoping to do it all right by asking Miss Elizabeth permission to court her before proposing. He had a speech prepared for her as well as her father when the time came for him to ask Mr. Bennet for his blessing. He had every intention of following his plan to the letter while he rode his horse to Rosings Park, but as soon as he entered the room and saw Elizabeth… He forgotten everything he had wished to say. He had been so close to death that he only wanted to see her one last time if his time had come. Since she was not nearby, Darcy resolved to fight for his life just so he could see her. That… and her words on Hingham Bridge gave him all the encouragement he needed not to give up. If Elizabeth's feelings changed in the slightest… He will do his damnest to prove to her that he was not the same man who proposed in Hunsford.

This new proposal was sudden and Darcy could not rein it back. One look into her beautiful brown eyes and he was lost to his emotions as he once more laid his heart out for her to do what she wished. Her acceptance was startling that her second yes was needed to ensure him that this was real. That Elizabeth— _his_ Elizabeth—was consenting to be his wife! Not only that… She was _willing_ to have him as her husband! Could he count his blessings in more ways than one? Then they kissed! Never had he felt such delight or joy to feel her pressed against him, or taste the sweet nectar of her lips! Indeed, he wondered if he truly had died and this was heaven.

Presently, he needed reassurance to make sure that Elizabeth was in his arms and that she was accepting him in every possible way. Furthermore, he wanted nothing more than to repeat the activity that was very agreeable. With their foreheads still touching, he asked gingerly, "May I kiss you again Elizabeth?"

Underneath his fingertips he could feel her tremble with laughter. Elizabeth lifted her countenance, a mischievous smirk dancing upon her lips while her eyes sparkled with mirth. "Sir, you did not ask before when I gave it so freely. But if it pleases your sensibilities then you have my permission. Although I beseech the warrior to do as he wishes for this warrior rises to every challenge."

Teasing minx! Darcy wolfishly grinned as he pulled her closer. "Very well my love. Pray do not forget what you have said for I fully intend to take these liberties to make up for all this lost time." Without further ado, Darcy captured her tempting smile and poured in his longing and love to that kiss. The knowledge she welcomed it with an equal vigor as his own only fueled the flames that leaped from his core and soon he had her backed up against the wall. Passion ruled as he devoured her sweetness, slipping his tongue in to curl and tease.

He swallowed her moan and shivered as her nails scraped his nape. He always knew she would be an ardent lover. Her skills with the deadly arts revealed that much and more with her agility and strength. He even had a taste of it back in Hunsford when she fought him in her rejection to his proposal. The physical attraction was palpable despite the disdain and abhorrence she had for him… There was no mistaking the lust that filled her fine eyes before remembering herself and her resolve.

Notwithstanding the anguish he felt at her refusal, Darcy admired her tenacity and integrity. Even though a marriage to him would have given her and her family an advantageous connection, she would not have him and that new piece of information was humbling to his former pride. Now that she was willing… Darcy was determined more than ever to retain her good graces and never make her doubt her choice of a husband. Facing his mortality reminded him that life was fallible and he was not any less worthy or special than the soldier next to him. Despite his rank, wealth, and circumstances, Fitzwilliam Darcy was a man first and foremost. He can bleed as easily as any commoner making him insignificant to the world. It was a pity that he learned this difficult lesson within the grip of George Wickham's hand tightening around his throat. Never had Darcy felt incredibly helpless in that moment that if it hadn't been for Elizabeth he would have surely perished in his enemy's chokehold.

Ah, and what a sight she was! She charged Wickham down on her white steed, never once hesitating as she cut off his arm with a single blow of her sword. Her long chestnut curls flying in the air, her complexion glowing with the exhilaration of a kill as if she was one of the Valkyries from Valhalla. Never had Elizabeth looked more beautiful to him or as radiant as she held her hand out for him to take. Once again she saved his life and he knew not how to repay her other than to pledge his honor and life for her to use as she willed. He would be her eternal and obedient servant if she so wished.

Of course, he was already hers from the moment they met.

The demand for air forced him to relent and quell the riding waves of pleasure as his ragged breathing tried to soothe his erratic heart. His side throbbed in pain but it was worth it to have Elizabeth in his embrace. Justly so, she, too, was also breathing quite harshly from his ministrations. Her pink lips were swollen, her cheeks warm and flushed with color, and her eyes were clouded over with her desire and love that it took every ounce of his self-control from swooping back down to kiss her once more.

Sense overruled for he knew he had held her up from congratulating her sister's upcoming nuptials for too long. Eventually someone will come searching for her and he did not wish for them to be discovered in a compromising position, even though she consented to his proposal.

Indeed, he was loathed to release her and retreated away from her soft curves and warm flesh as the sudden rush of cold air made it unbearable. How he longed to hold her!

Even Elizabeth seemed bereft from the loss of contact, but she understood his reasoning with the silence between them. Jane will wonder where she was and no doubt her absence as well as Mr. Darcy's would draw suspicions.

"I will speak to you father," Mr. Darcy promised, his voice raspy and heavy from their zealous display.

Hardly able to trust her voice at the moment, Elizabeth could only nod. Then Mr. Darcy swiftly left and she was left with weak knees and a frantic yearning to be close to him again.

If this was what she was to expect from their marriage, then Elizabeth was uncertain if she would be able to survive such enthusiasm!

When she was able to show herself in a presentable matter (and her heart no longer willing to jump out of her chest), Elizabeth found her beloved sister and the others in one of the antechambers. She crept inside and was relieved that no one seemed to notice her entering. They were all too busy giving their well wishes to the young couple in the midst of happy tears from their mother. Elizabeth sidled up to Jane and a smile broke across her face when Jane hugged her.

"Can you believe it Lizzy? I am to be Mrs. Bingley!" she exclaimed.

"I can believe it," Elizabeth teased. "I am so happy for you. There is no other person in this world that I wish for more happiness than you."

"I feel like I can die from all this joy!" Jane sighed contentedly. As she pulled back, Jane caught a similar glint in her sister's eyes. "Lizzy…?"

"I will tell you later," Elizabeth vowed, whispering to her so no one else would overhear. "Right now, this is your moment. Enjoy it."

Jane beamed, nodding in agreement. Right now nothing could ruin this moment.

xxXXxx

It was at least a couple hours later when the excitement died down that Lady Catherine gathered her servants to announce a feast in honor of the engaged couple. Mrs. Bennet was completely beside herself as there was so much to do! They will need to prepare Jane her wedding clothes, post the banns, set a date, plan the wedding breakfast, and send out the invitations to their family and friends. Then again, they may not have to send out too many invitations with the unmentionables lurking about. In fact, the fewer guests they invite the sooner the wedding could take place. Then she could show Mrs. Lucas that she had her daughter married before her own!

Jane did not mind her mother's taking over the wedding plans. All of that was minor compared to her feelings for Mr. Bingley that she wanted to soak it all in. She could not stop blushing or smiling even when Mr. Bingley met her gaze, and she blushed even more when her attentions had the same effect on him! So focused on her own emotions, Jane almost forgot about Elizabeth until she espied Mr. Darcy entering the room with their father behind him. The former had a pleased albeit sheepish grin on his countenance as if showing this much expression was too much for him to handle. After all, for as long as Jane could remember, Mr. Darcy was usually taciturn in his disposition and hardly ever shown any real pleasure or happiness to anything surrounding him.

This was all very astonishing when she noticed how his gaze strayed over to Elizabeth and became riveted in his focus causing a slight flush to spread across his features. Even Elizabeth appeared to be affected as well as she held his look with the same contented smile and rosy hue on her cheeks.

Jane's suspicions were correct in thinking they had feelings for each other. Images of Hingham Bridge came barreling back as Jane recalled the desperation in Elizabeth's voice as she kept asking about why Mr. Darcy wasn't waking. The way her sister cradled his then lifeless form brought tears to her eyes and Jane thanked God that He restored Mr. Darcy so he could come back to them. Something had changed between them and whatever reason it was… She was grateful that her sister found someone who could make her happy.

Even if that gentleman had a history of being disagreeable, Jane knew there was more to the story than what Lizzy let on and she was determined to get the truth out of her. Even if Jane had to beat it out of her, she would gladly do so. Elizabeth never was one to turn down a sparring match and she intended to take advantage of that tidbit.

While Jane was contemplating her sister's defeat, Elizabeth urgently wanted to go to Darcy and talk to him about what her father said. She knew that her father would give his blessing, but she was curious on how the conversation went. Mr. Bennet was a humorous man in his sharp wits combined with his skill with the blade. He enjoyed teasing a person at their expense and Mr. Darcy could be too serious at times. She hoped her father had been kind to him and did not make him suffer for long.

Her keen observant eye did pick up that her fiancé favoring his right side was a bit more pronounced than earlier. His demeanor appeared as if he exerted himself greatly as he had more color in his pigmentation and she detected a slight sheen of moisture exposed on his neck. She surveyed her father and was stunned to find him in a similar attitude as Mr. Darcy. Despite Mr. Bennet's wizened age, he was in the best of health and would partake in a spar here and there to keep him flexible. Yet he was showing signs of applying too much exertion on his aging bones and he could not stand for long as he sought an empty chair next to Miss Bingley. Normally her father wasn't one to keep social meetings but he stayed as long as he could tolerate her mother's prattling before excusing himself.

As he rose from his chair, Mr. Bennet looked at Elizabeth directly and gave her a sly wink. She narrowed her eyes at him and pondered what in the world did her father do to her Mr. Darcy.

 _Yes… hers_. The thought entered her mind as comfortably as a bright day. She found that she rather liked the idea of him belonging to her just as she felt like she belonged to him. Two halves of the same person now soon to be joined God willing. Mr. Bennet gave his approval and she had no doubt her mother will too; however, there was a matter that concerned his family, especially his aunt. How would Lady Catherine look upon their engagement? She had expressed her discontent before and declared that her daughter was pledged to marry Mr. Darcy. After everything they had been through and having Lady Catherine speak of her admiration towards her, will the great woman approve of this union?

Either way, Elizabeth was going to marry him. She loved him as he loved her. She knew that now and nothing could part them. Death himself would have to try, and even then, Elizabeth will not give up and fight to her last breath if she must. Death will realize that she was no easy mistress to tame.

Mr. Darcy slowly approached her but veered to his left as he bowed in front of Jane. "I offer you my congratulations Miss Bennet. I know you will make my friend very happy."

"Thank you Mr. Darcy," Jane said warmly, exchanging a loving glance at Mr. Bingley not far from her.

"Miss Elizabeth," Mr. Darcy greeted in his customary way. Though, this time, he had a ghost of a smile playing that he shared with only her before letting his mask of indifference slip back on for the public.

For some reason, Elizabeth did not take offense to it or the fact he did not remain to converse with her. She had been studying his past habits in a new light with her recently discovered love for him and she was revising her conclusions from her earlier musings about his character.

Mr. Darcy was an enigma to be certain. His behavior and reasons would mystify anyone new to his acquaintance and would easily arrive to the theory that he was proud, selfish, and condescending. She knew this from her past experience that it was exactly how she perceived him! Now, she was realizing his quirks meant something else altogether. It wasn't until he made his second offer that she noticed how his voice hitched when trying to formulate his thoughts aloud. It was as if he was searching for a way to express his feelings in the hope he would not say the wrong thing. It was commendable he was not going to insult her this time around, but reflecting back on that dreadful day… Elizabeth started to realize he did not mean to give any offense in his declaration. Rather, his tone and body language was stiff and he could not maintain eye contact for long. The nervous energy that he was trying to hold at bay gave way with his pacing and his rushing words to explain his adoration. However, he mixed the loving mode with the unusual explanation of how a match in this regard would be incomprehensible. He was shy to say the words from his heart and blurted out everything that was running through his head. He avoided looking at her until he got down on his knee and only then did he meet her gaze.

Mr. Darcy was a man of few words and for him to make such an incredible speech of that magnitude took great effort on his part. It was unfortunate that it did not work in his favor then, but Elizabeth could appreciate that he tried nevertheless. In fact, the more she recalled, the more she began to take notice that Mr. Darcy was not prone to engage in conversation. Even if he was engaged with someone, the topic of discussion would be brief and he would spend the rest of the time in quiet solitude. While to some it would appear he believed those around him were inferior and he could not maintain interest in the discourse, Elizabeth saw it as him being actually shy. He was uncomfortable in social gatherings where he was unfamiliar to the persons present and did not have the talent that others possessed to be sociable. It also explained his lack of interest in asking a partner to dance at the Meryton assembly. No doubt he was too diffident to ask her to dance so he deflected his disinterest so Mr. Bingley would not push him! Although, Elizabeth would have preferred a different mode of declaration ( _tolerable indeed!_ ) from his own lips but now she understood his behavior.

She could not help but acknowledge how strange it was that a man of his caliber in the deadly arts could be brought to his knees by something as simple as a social situation. Later, she will have to tease him mercilessly about it but for now it was her little secret. Perhaps she should return him the favor with his poor choice of words in that she was "not handsome enough to tempt him" in a friendly round of sparring. After all, it was only fair for her to reclaim her honor regardless if he had been too timid to ask her to dance in the beginning.

"May I inquiry as to what you are thinking about that has put a smile on your face?" Mr. Darcy whispered as he stood behind her, facing a window so unbeknownst to the others they were conversing.

Doing her best to avoid attention from Jane or anyone else for that matter, Elizabeth lifted the book she had been reading to cover her mouth. "You may but I may not decide to answer," she spoke softly, her tone jesting. "But as I am in a good mood I might as well be inclined to share that I am thinking of my fiancé."

"I see," he replied, the corner of his mouth twitching upwards. "He must be a very lucky man indeed."

"Yes as long as my father gave him permission. Unfortunately, he does not give a good first impression. He is believed to be proud and disagreeable albeit tolerable in looks. I might even add he is not always handsome enough to tempt most young ladies. I daresay I am the only one willing to align myself with such a character."

"So you did hear me… I often wonder what could have caused you to leave so hastily." His inflection dropped its teasing manner as he became solemn in his contemplation. "I have no excuses for my behavior other than I am ashamed for the slight it caused you."

"It is forgiven. I only meant to tease you. Pray, do not let such dark thoughts enter your mind."

She saw his nod ever so slightly and sighed in relief. Before she could say anything else, she heard a catch in his breath and saw the flash of pain sweep across his features. Elizabeth frowned, knowing something _did_ happen between Mr. Darcy and her father. As she opened her mouth to question him, he quickly superseded her. "I am well. I assure you… It is not what you think."

She had to wonder what he thought she was thinking but he once more reassured her that he was fine and would tell her later. It was quite unfortunate she could not follow up with a demand to know what grieved him when Lady Catherine suggested that they have the wedding in her chapel.

The instant shrills and cries of delight from Mrs. Bennet severed the opportunity to continue the clandestine conversation. Elizabeth was pulled back into the wedding plans as the book in her hands was plucked away. Mrs. Bennet was adamant she have the attention of all her daughters. However, she was lucky to escape Death's embrace as Elizabeth almost gave into the impulse to plunge her dagger into her mother's eye. Now she could understand her father's wish to sometimes end his silly wife for peace and quiet.

Glancing over her shoulder at Mr. Darcy, she sent him a silent message: _We will speak later._

xxXXxx

It soon became apparent that after they found each other again the Fates deemed it necessary to keep them apart. Elizabeth could not believe her ill luck that she could not steal away a minute with her intended. Whenever she caught sight of Mr. Darcy alone, she would begin to go in his direction and then someone would either snatch him or her away. Never in her whole life had she regretted she had four sisters. Even her dearly beloved Jane was testing her patience! Alas, the day had gone and Elizabeth was nowhere closer to uncovering the truth of her fiancé and father's interview. Furthermore, her father decided not to tell her what went on between them and in his typical, Mr. Bennet cheeky fashion, he stated: "You will soon be a married woman Lizzy. Any matters of concern must be consulted with your soon-to-be husband."

She vowed the next morning she would be successful.

At the rise of the rosy-fingered Dawn, Elizabeth aroused herself from her slumber with the hopes of finding Mr. Darcy before anyone else. She dressed herself quietly so as to not disturb Jane; however, her intentions prove fruitless as she crept towards the door when a voice sent her flying into battle stance.

Breathing hard, Elizabeth found Jane in her sparring gown and sitting quite demurely in a chair. Her eldest sister failed miserably in biting back her smirk, but she was very pleased with herself to have caught her sister unawares.

"Jane! I thought you were in bed…" As Elizabeth spoke, she looked back to their bed and the familiar lump under the covers was still there. Realization that she had been tricked came crashing through her as she had pulled the same trickery many a time on her very trusting sister. Of course, Elizabeth would execute this deception with an unsuspecting low sweeping kick or tackle from the shadows to start the day with their morning sparring. She could have been grateful Jane had not launched an unexpected assault, but this meant she might not be able to speak to Darcy with Jane awake. Her gaze narrowed at Jane suspiciously and wondered what hellish design her sweet sister had plotted.

Jane laughed in her easy good naturedly way. "For once I have the upper-hand. I thought we could get in our training session early before the others wake, unless… you had something else in mind?"

Knowing very well she could not say what she really had in mind, Elizabeth consented to the idea.

Once she had switched into the appropriate attire, Elizabeth and Jane made their way to Lady Catherine's private dojo. The good warrior woman had offered the room's use to the Bennet sisters while they stayed in Rosings. Mr. Collins had shared earlier that the dojo was the very same one that Lady Catherine trained in while in Kyoto, and insisted that every piece of brick and wood be removed so it could be rebuilt here in England. The dojo was massive—a vast floor that was easily four times the Bennet's dojo in Longbourne. Touches of Japan were spread all over from the paper lanterns to the banner of Japanese characters that appeared to represent the Kyoto Code. The real treat… the true centerpiece of the dojo was the myriad of weapons that Lady Catherine acquired and used in all her battles with the unmentionables. Swords of every shape and size, varying in different weights and design, were hung on the wall along with knives, throwing stars, whips, axes, sais (a sharp metal baton with two curved prongs from the handle), nun chucks, and kusarigama's (a sickle with a long metal chain and an iron weight attached to the end). They were beautifully crafted and begged to be strike against the enemy.

Elizabeth admired them from the moment she saw them. She was partial to the throwing stars and became quite adept with them during her stay. She knew she would have to buy herself a set as soon as it was safe to leave Rosings. Until that moment… she would have to satisfy herself in borrowing Lady Catherine's.

While Elizabeth had taken great delight in using the dojo, she was thoroughly annoyed and frustrated she was unable to sneak away like she had hoped to see Mr. Darcy. As much as she loved Jane to death, Elizabeth was sorely tempted to take her newfound love of the throwing stars and send it spiraling at her sister. Alas, that would have to wait, as they picked up a bamboo stick and assumed the position after bowing to one another. She will settle on thrashing Jane to quench her bloodlust.

 _This should be easy_ , Elizabeth thought with a mirthful twitch. _Jane still has that engagement glow about her that will keep her distracted with thoughts of her Mr. Bingley. Once she capitulates then I will find Mr. Darcy._

She couldn't have been more wrong.

Elizabeth yelped as the bamboo stick whipped into her rib. That was twice that Jane got her in that spot and Elizabeth was determined it won't happen a third time. Baring her teeth, Elizabeth swung her stick as Jane blocked the move. Despite the happy haze in her expression, Jane was fighting with an equal vigor that rivalled Elizabeth's. She could not recall a time that Jane delivered such energy or enthusiasm in a spar before. Indeed, Jane's talent with the stick or Shaolin staff exceeded Elizabeth's, but Jane was relentless—almost ruthless as she ducked and hooked the staff behind Elizabeth's leg to knock her to the ground.

The wind was knocked out of her as Elizabeth gazed up at the ceiling, fighting to catch her breath. Then Jane materialized before her, looming over as a triumphant smile filled her countenance.

"Do you yield?" she asked kindly.

"Never!" Elizabeth gasped as she used her elbow to hit Jane in the stomach.

The blow was effective as it was Jane's turn to gasp for breath as she doubled over, her hands clutching her dress. Elizabeth seized the opportunity for the short distraction to get to her feet and grab her staff. Jane gathered her wits as quickly as she could before her sister could send her reeling with a hit.

As both were still slightly winded from the earlier attacks, they found themselves to be on equal footing as they circled each other. Silently and mentally, both were trying to calculate her next move that would render her opponent at her mercy. Elizabeth was of the mind that this spar had another ulterior purpose for she had never seen Jane in such a combative state. The eldest Bennet was determined to win this fight no matter the cost.

 _So much for the lovelorn Jane_ , Elizabeth mused dejectedly. _And to think… all I wanted to do was see Mr. Darcy!_

 _She is not going to give up_ , Jane thought. _Of course not. She wouldn't be a true warrior if she easily yielded._

A different _albeit_ direct tactic was going to have to settle the score. As they engaged once more, Jane began speaking.

"Has your feelings for Mr. Darcy changed?"

The question stunned Elizabeth and almost earned herself another slap to the ribs, but she parried the movement. "What?"

"That is a silly question. Of course they've had. You have been rather uncharacteristically worried for his welfare and since he has returned… you seem to have this peculiar look on your face."

The fight paused so Jane could demonstrate said peculiar look with a little more emphasis on the dopey smile and batting eyelashes. Elizabeth narrowed her eyes as she bared her teeth in a low growl. " _I have not!_ "

"Admit it Lizzy," Jane baited. "You have feelings for him."

While her sister was correct with her surmises, Elizabeth would not give her the satisfaction. After all, this mention of Mr. Darcy was purely a ploy to throw her off so Jane could defeat her. Well… If her sister wanted to play it that way…

"If I do have feelings for him, then I suppose his character has grown on me. Furthermore, Mr. Darcy's skills in the deadly arts are indeed something that requires admiration. He is an impressive fighter on the battlefield. Completely poise, agile. He certainly doesn't find himself in a peril situation where he is knocked unconscious."

"What is that supposed to mean?" Jane asked, her brow set in a quizzical expression.

Elizabeth smirked. "Mr. Bingley is very amiable in everything that society wants. However, I daresay, his warrior skills do not compare to those of Mr. Darcy's." Her grin widened further as Jane's countenance became practically comical in their swelling proportions. "As happy as I am with your upcoming nuptials, my dear sister, I do believe your future husband will always have to have a decent fighter at his side to prevent any disastrous consequences of the fatal kind."

Her words hit its mark directly as intended as fury blazed across the normal docile Bennet sister, and with a raucous cry, Jane charged Elizabeth.

"Take… that… back…!" Jane saw red, pure and raging, as she threw all her power into the staff as she swung and jabbed.

Elizabeth clearly woken a beast inside sweet Jane and while a part of her wanted to laugh at the humor in it… She figured laughing would only cause her demise with the utmost certainty. However, she could use this to her advantage. Jane was fighting with emotion at the moment… a passion ignited that will be her downfall. How unfortunate Jane forgotten the basics that Shaolin masters taught them. Rule number one… _Never_ let your feelings get the best of you.

"Charles may not possess the experience as Mr. Darcy does, but he is a capable warrior who has killed just as many zombies as any of us!" Jane defended. With an impassioned grunt, she twirled her staff and dove to the ground so she could wipe Elizabeth off her feet.

Anticipating this, Elizabeth jumped, and using Jane's vulnerability on the floor, she brought her staff down on her back. Jane sprawled out, her eyes squeezed in pain, as she did her best to reign in her whimper. However, she couldn't move as Elizabeth pressed her knee on her lower back, keeping her in place, and brought her staff underneath her chin and pressed it against her throat.

Jane's fingers immediately went to the bamboo, trying to pry it away from her larynx, but Elizabeth kept a firm grip as she watched her choking.

"Do you yield?" Elizabeth asked quietly.

Jane closed her eyes, tears gathering at the corners. She struggled against Elizabeth's hold but the urgency to breathe took precedence. She nodded to the best of her ability and in a flash her throat was relieved from its pressure as Jane dropped her forehead to the cool surface coughing.

Elizabeth removed herself so Jane could have the space she needed to recover. With one hand on her hip and the other holding the bamboo staff, Elizabeth watched as Jane slowly sat on her knees, her body trembling from the aftershocks of near strangulation.

Tilting her head, Elizabeth spoke: "If you wanted to know my feelings about Mr. Darcy, you could have asked Jane."

Laughing hurt too much at the moment but Jane did regardless. "Yes… but where is the fun in that?"

The two exchanged a smile as Elizabeth offered her hand to help her stand. Jane accepted and with her sister's help was able to get on her feet, although her balance was still shaky. Nevertheless, Elizabeth dropped her staff so she could properly help Jane across the dojo where she could sit and rest.

Worry creased Elizabeth's forehead as she continued to watch Jane struggling to breathe. She didn't think she held her that tightly to make her yield. Regret instantly flashed over her features. "Oh Jane! I didn't mean to…"

Elizabeth's voice trailed off as a mischievous grin appeared on Jane's countenance. Before she could react, the eldest Bennet sent her sprawling with a direct punch to the abdomen. As Elizabeth curled to her side, wincing in pain, she looked up as Jane stood over her.

"I say we are even, do you not agree?"

xxXXxx

Once Elizabeth recovered, the Bennet sisters returned to their room to change into suitable dresses for the day. They joked and teased each other and their respective paramours. Elizabeth eventually confided in Jane about her engagement—much to her sister's delight. When questioned why she hadn't spoken earlier about it, Elizabeth admitted she did not want to take Jane's happiness from her.

"Oh Lizzy, how ridiculous!" Jane scolded in her gentle way. "I would have been happy to share the good news with you. After all, you had said so yourself that no man could tempt you into matrimony! To hear that you and Mr. Darcy will be married… This is wonderful news!" Then Jane became solemn as a new thought entered her mind. "Lizzy, does Papa know of his intentions? The family will be very surprised considering how you have been quite emphatic about your feelings towards him."

"I know it might come as a shock to some, but Papa is well aware of my feelings and Mr. Darcy's intentions. At least… I hope all is well. I know when I spoke to Papa about Mr. Darcy; he seemed he would give his blessing. Yet, yesterday they were in the library for too long and both appeared to be favoring some kind of injury. Papa would not tell me what had transpired and that I should speak to Mr. Darcy. And every time I try to speak to him… something happens that forces us to go our separate ways. I fear I must admit that even you, my dear sister, had also prevented me from seeing him!"

A mortified look crossed Jane's features. "Oh no! If I had known, then I wouldn't have tricked you into a spar in the first place. Forgive me. I only wanted to ascertain if you did in fact love him."

"It's quite all right Jane," Elizabeth assured her. "I should have told you sooner for these past months have been a trial. Not knowing if Mr. Darcy would live or not…"

"I can only imagine the torment you went through," Jane said in sympathy. "Being apart from Mr. Bingley was painful in itself, but to suffer the uncertainty of life or death… You're far braver than I, Lizzy; for I fear I could not keep my composure as you had."

"Bravery had nothing to do with it," Elizabeth said. "Indeed, I do not want to think about what could have been if Mr. Darcy had succumbed to his injuries. I believe that is best to be left in the unknown. The present is much more pleasant to think about."

Jane smiled, nodding her concurrence. "Yes. I daresay you are right." Watching her sister closely, Jane could not help but wonder aloud. "Seeing that your secret is out, why have you not gone to him?"

"Jane?"

"Come Lizzy. You were about to sneak out before I caught you. It's still early and I doubt anyone else will be awake. Go to your Mr. Darcy."

Elizabeth stared at her with astonishment. Jane was encouraging her rendezvous?

Jane laughed at her sister's expense. "Lizzy, I am aware of the affairs of the heart. You said it yourself that you wished to know what had happened between Papa and Mr. Darcy. This is your opportunity. Go to him. Then once you two have spoken… Your engagement can be announced." As another new thought entered her mind, Jane's smile continued to grow wider. "Lizzy! We could have a double wedding! How exciting this will be!"

Jane's excitement was very much contagious and Elizabeth found herself very agreeable to the notion of a double wedding. It would save them the wait before they could be united as husband and wife. Although she could already hear Mrs. Bennet lamenting over losing the opportunity for another extravagant wedding, Elizabeth's lips curved.

"A double wedding does sound ideal," she agreed. "Even though Mama will disagree…"

"How could I forget?" Jane sighed. "Mama will clearly feel deprived if we did not have separate weddings."

The two sisters smiled and knew they had to make this a reality. While Elizabeth and Jane were of the same mind, there was the matter concerning their betrothed. Would Mr. Bingley and Mr. Darcy accept such a proposal? Well, the gentlemen will come to discover that if they do not concede, then their brides will have no choice but to "persuade" them!

TBC…


	3. Chapter 3

A/N: This was a tricky chapter to write. I kept changing things over and over again, and while I am satisfied with the end product, I hope you guys enjoy it as much I did writing it. Now, I do want to add that this is all made up (obviously), but I did a little research to see if the Chinese had anything similar to the Japanese when it comes to honor. There wasn't anything too specific, so I took from what I read and added more of my own spin. It will all make sense once you read it. Thank you everyone for reading!

 **Chapter 3**

After Elizabeth and Jane concluded their plans of combining their nuptials, the former was quite eager to find her intended. It was fortunate that the rest of the household was still sleeping, except for the Black Guard. Elizabeth had learned straight away that Lady Catherine's men did not take their duties lightly. They were ordered to stand guard at their posts all day and night with a change every four hours. As Mr. Collins shared, they did not move or hardly blink regardless if you tried to break them. In addition, they rarely spoke to anyone! It worked well in Elizabeth's favor to presume that if she were to meet with Mr. Darcy clandestinely, then the Black Guard would not leave their posts to report them.

However, she was certain her activity would not seem out of the ordinary. She had made it perfectly well clear that she was fond of walking, especially a morning stroll. None of the guards would bat an eye if she was seen on the grounds. Elizabeth hoped that Mr. Darcy was armed with the knowledge of her daily constitution so they could meet in happenstance.

Fortunately, Luck decided to work in the lovers' favor seeing how it had been so difficult the day before. Elizabeth was so happy and relieved to find Mr. Darcy already prowling the garden, pacing anxiously back and forth with his hands clasped behind him. She took a moment to appreciate the view: his purposeful and great strides, the tails of his long jacket spinning with each turn, and his stern yet imposing expression. He was not limping as much and he did not appear to be in pain, but Mr. Darcy was a master of his emotions and his body. Even in solitude he did not lower his defenses, and for that Elizabeth felt her heart swell with admiration and love.

And… she could not help but notice how he had not sensed her presence. Under any other circumstances Elizabeth would take advantage of such cognizance to engage in combat, but curiosity over the exchange with her father and Mr. Darcy reigned supreme so she had to reluctantly forgo the urge of a sneak attack.

Taking a step forward, Elizabeth cleared her throat and successfully captured his attention.

Upon seeing his fiancée, Darcy's countenance broke out into an unadulterated smile that was quite uncharacteristic if someone from his acquaintance witnessed this. Completely free from the social barriers and constraints that were dictated in the present moment, Darcy no longer had to maintain his reserved façade and could openly express his feelings without judgment. It was rather liberating to lower one's defenses and truly be yourself; although, Darcy was still not in that amiable state of mind where he could continue that ability for long. However, being around Elizabeth, gave him the courage he needed to show his happiness.

He had hoped she would find him knowing her predilection for early morning walks. They had so much to discuss and since they had not had the chance the previous day… Darcy prayed they could speak without interruption this time.

"Good morning," he greeted, his voice still laden with that morning rasp. Of course, Mr. Darcy's voice already had that gravelly quality to it, but hearing it now with an additional layer to it had Elizabeth's belly curling with the same tingling sensation she felt when they kissed. She knew this was what desire must feel like for there was no other explanation since she no longer deemed him as intolerable. In fact, she had wondered what this emotion would feel as she was innocent in body, but not so much in mind. Elizabeth was well-read and well-verse in the idea of seduction, which Master Liu had instructed his pupils to recognize in case an enemy tried to lower their defenses. Furthermore, he didn't want the Bennet sisters to be entirely ignorant in regards to the opposite sex. Mr. Bennet had been supportive in this lesson but insisted that Mrs. Bennet made not aware of it. It was a secret the girls had from their mother, but at least they knew the ways of men to avoid getting into trouble and into a disgraceful scandal. Whether or not Lydia (and in turn Kitty) will learn from the near potential disaster she had almost faced with Wickham… remains to be seen. Of course, the youngest of the Bennet's continued to show contrition. Perhaps there was hope.

She returned his smile, inwardly pleased that he felt comfortable to show his affections in her presence. At least she knew he loved her! She met him halfway and slid right into his arms so their lips could meet. Elizabeth found she was quite enjoying this activity, more so than she ever thought. Then again, she had always believed she would end up as the spinster in the family, never once finding the opposite sex to be attractive. With Mr. Darcy, Elizabeth truly felt she could be herself without having to hide or feel ashamed of her bloodthirsty tendencies. If anything, he appreciated her skills and accepted her help in battle.

Stepping back, Elizabeth bit her lower lip to keep her smile from taking over as she gazed into his adoring eyes. "Good morning," she replied, somewhat surprised and abashed over how husky she sounded; yet, Mr. Darcy did not seem to mind. Indeed, he was very satisfied that he was not the only one affected by such delights.

For a moment, they remained silent and simply enjoyed the pleasure it was to be in each other's embrace without an audience to observe their actions. Neither had they ever felt the fierce constrictions of society until now, but they could find some solace in this intimate setting. But alas, it became evident they needed to speak for Mr. Darcy's pain in his side started to flare and he could not contain the wince from his visage.

Concerned, Elizabeth dropped her arms so she was not pressing against him and he mentally cursed himself for losing the pleasant warmth. Knowing she was waiting his response, he attempted to reassure her with a tender grin.

"I am well," he said.

"I fear your countenance says otherwise sir," Elizabeth pointed out, a frown marring her demeanor for she had forgotten his injuries.

"It is not that bad," Darcy insisted. "I can still wage battle if a zombie should wander by."

"Let's pray that does not happen in case you are wrong," she retorted. "Did it go well with my father?"

"He gave me his blessing," Darcy told her, once more the relief and happiness overtaking any discomfort he might have felt. "It appeared your father had anticipated my intentions, but he preempted me, I suspect, for his amusement."

"How so?" she inquired. She knew her father like herself was prone to mischief but she had hoped he would not tease Mr. Darcy so considering everything that had happened. And as far as she knew, Mr. Bennet kept a civil and solemn air when he spoke to Mr. Bingley on Jane's behalf. Her sister would have shared if their father had done something at Mr. Bingley's expense. Then again, Mr. Bingley might have kept any embarrassments to himself; however, Elizabeth did not recall him limping as Mr. Darcy had after speaking to him.

"I suppose I was somewhat to blame," he confessed. "I know my behavior and conduct had not been the most agreeable or amiable towards your family. I confess I had done myself no favors in Meryton and the same could be said at the ball in Netherfield. I can only look back at my actions with abhorrence and thank a higher power for instilling some goodness in my character that convinced you I was worthy in your eyes. Going into the library to speak to your father I was determined to make amends and repair any damage that I might have caused with my past comportment."

 _Regardless of his inner consternation, Mr. Darcy hoped his usual unflappability would prevail. As it were, perhaps to an untrained eye, his poised manner was betrayed with the trickle of cold perspiration at his temples. A warrior such as one of his stature and caliber does not buckle under strenuous pressure or break under agonizing torture. He had faced many hairy a situation—not only physically but mentally and emotionally as well. Yet… none of his previous training could prepare him for that precise moment when he stood before Mr. Bennet in the hopes the older man would grant his permission in giving his blessing to his union with Elizabeth._

 _Naturally, Darcy knew Mr. Bennet was not a fool. His Elizabeth may have a foolish mother, but her father was a different story. He admired the man that had a hand in raising Elizabeth into a fine warrior and strong woman. However, Darcy knew he had made too many grievous errors when it came to the Bennets and regretted his former actions. But asking for repentance and forgiveness was a strange and foreign aspect to his character. It undoubtedly put him into an awkward position and Darcy hated nothing more than being discomfited._

 _But Elizabeth…_

 _Just the thought of her, a brief glimpse of his mental eye of her and Darcy swallowed his pride and discomfort._

 _ **This**_ _was for her._

" _Sir," Darcy began, inwardly pleased that his voice did not betray what his rapidly beating heart did. "I thank you for taking the time to speak to me. I fear I have not given the most congenial impression when we first met, and subsequently—"_

" _Indeed," Mr. Bennet interrupted with an arch of his gray brow. "That is perhaps a gross understatement, sir."_

" _I, uh…" Mr. Darcy faltered only for a moment before regaining his wits. After all, Mr. Bennet had every right to express his displeasure. "There are no excuses for my behavior. I behaved abominably and I deserve every ounce of your rancor and censorship."_

 _Mr. Bennet pressed his lips together firmly as he interlaced his fingers. His crisp blue eyes clear as the morning sky were devoid of any emotion making it impossible for Mr. Darcy to determine the patriarch's thoughts. The acute piercing of Mr. Bennet's gaze was recognizable in Elizabeth and he was once more reminded of his poor misjudgment of the family. Given the opportunity to study Mr. Bennet within the confines of the library and without prying eyes, Darcy's former prejudicial veil was lifted to reveal that despite being a country gentleman—Mr. Bennet did possess a regal yet deadly air. His age might lend others to believe this warrior was retired, but retired he certainly was not. The healing scars and new wounds on his knuckles indicated Mr. Bennet regularly sparred with his fists; his torso was lean and still well-defined as a man in his eight and twenty years, not protruding or soft as men in his station are wot to do. Furthermore, he remained personally involved in his daughters' training, which Darcy assumed Mr. Bennet needed to stay in shape to keep up with such frantic energy. There was no mistaking his adoration or love for his children as each Bennet sister was highly skilled and trained as the other; although, Darcy had to admit that Elizabeth was the far superior warrior and it was not due to his bias either._

 _Mr. Bennet was no fool and he had chosen well (perhaps wisely) to train in China. Even Darcy conceded his own training might be regarded as sub-par in the older man's eyes. It hardly mattered that Darcy was the one standing while Mr. Bennet sat—Darcy was in this man's shadow._

" _You study me quite intently sir," Mr. Bennet announced. "Have you discovered something in my character that might have confirmed your earlier suspicions?"_

" _Not at all. I required a new light to study and I am satisfied with the results. It was I who erred."_

" _So you say." Mr. Bennet regarded him with a slight tilt. "I suppose you are correct that your transgressions have been unfounded and I cannot bide that a man—nay, a_ _ **warrior**_ _—would be cavalier in regards to a newly introduced acquaintance. Your judgments were quite premature as I fail to recall any slights on my behalf or my daughters (my wife, I have to exclude. She means well but her words do not reflect the family). Yet, I do not seek the approval of my peers unlike others in my society. The only matters I concern myself with are the well-being of my daughters in that they are properly schooled and trained in the deadly arts. Society in itself is tiresome and tedious and full of hypocritical sycophants (I should know I am married to one) and I rather be surrounded by books than people who believe they are the betters when truthfully they are the most ignorant, foolhardy, and more likely to become a zombie with their blind arrogance and petty egotism."_

 _Darcy did not flinch. Every word spoken was an utterance to the truth. His initial introduction to the Bennets was appalling as the Bennet daughters (even Mrs. Bennet) were nothing more than generous, courteous, and welcoming. It was he who had been rude, discourteous, and unwelcoming. Why? Even as he stood before Mr. Bennet's remonstration, he could not remember why he had been in a deplorable mood. It was truly petty of him and it was truly a splendor thought he had not become a zombie. Thoughts of Wickham and how he had been undead all this time… flaunting right under Darcy's nose and not once did the proud warrior noticed. To think… that Darcy_ believed _Jane Bennet had been a zombie!_

" _Every fiber in my being agrees with you that you are worthy of my censor. The insults you declared and practiced are enough for me to demand expiation for honor's sake."_

 _Darcy closed his eyes, awaiting the price Mr. Bennet would make. After all, it was only fair that he atone for his needless slights. Anything… to make himself worthy to accept Elizabeth's hand._

 _It did not escape Mr. Bennet's notice how affected this young man was in his examination of Mr. Darcy's past deeds. He did not see one ounce of the pride or hubris that was often associated with this person. He saw a man full of contrition and humility that Mr. Bennet was starting to understand what his Lizzy had said about Mr. Darcy. No doubt this recollection and remarks about Darcy's character was difficult for the young man to hear but he bore the brunt of the indignities with acceptance. He made no excuses. However, Mr. Darcy was indeed a serious and grave young man. Mr. Bennet could not abide such conduct._

" _Nevertheless, I cannot refute the sacrifice you had made for my youngest. Lydia is alive, thanks to you. I cannot forget that."_

 _Darcy opened his eyes. He had not expected this admission. If anything, he had hoped his participation would remain anonymous or the very least kept in confidence among the parties involved. The acknowledgment—nay, the very word "sacrifice" filled Darcy with embarrassment. It had sounded he had gone out of his way to save Lydia when he really was to blame for her predicament. The sentiment, while appreciated, was not necessary. It should be Darcy seeking forgiveness for Lydia Bennet's plight._

" _There are no thanks to be given. I assure you I am not seeking commendation."_

" _No?" Mr. Bennet lifted his brow again. "I was of the mind that your benevolence was also in part to win my daughter Lizzy's affections."_

 _Darcy paled in mortification. "I would be honored to have her affections. I would be_ _ **honored**_ _to be her husband. Rescuing Lydia wasn't to ensure Miss Bennet will have me. Wickham was_ _ **my**_ _mistake. I foolishly allowed my pride to stand in the way instead of denouncing him as the soulless monster that he was. It was my fault she was taken and I could not live with myself if anything happened to her or any of your daughters."_

" _And for Lizzy to think kindly towards you."_

 _Mr. Bennet could not resist repeating again as he watched Mr. Darcy shift his weight awkwardly and his countenance flush with bashfulness. Despite the young man's efforts to deny his magnanimity was for the sole purpose in winning Lizzy, Mr. Bennet could not help but regard the high and mighty Mr. Darcy as a poor besotted pup._ Indeed, too humorless and solemn _were Mr. Bennet's thoughts. The man needed to stop fretting and notice when he was being jested. However, as such capability was beyond Mr. Darcy's repertoire, Mr. Bennet found himself a new target to amuse himself._

 _Now, the Bennet patriarch knew his Lizzy would frown upon him for tormenting her fiancé, especially when she implored him not to tease him so before Mr. Darcy requested a private audience. It was truly a pity and a shame that Mr. Darcy was gravely serious. Certainly a zombie had more of a sense of humor! Nevertheless, Mr. Bennet was strangely looking forward in having Darcy as a son-in-law. As long as Lizzy doesn't soften him too much… perhaps Mr. Bennet would be able to use him as fodder for his personal pleasure. Maybe marriage for his daughters was altogether not as terrible as he originally thought. Mr. Darcy's self-condemnation, suffice to say, did have Mr. Bennet looking upon him favorably. Lizzy clearly spoke about his change in character and how her feelings altered… there could be something worthy about him other than the diversion provided._

 _In Darcy's mind, he feared he might be failing in his endeavors to present himself as a better man to Mr. Bennet. The last thing he wanted was for Mr. Bennet to think that saving Lydia was his only reason in winning Elizabeth over. Truth be told, it had not occurred to him that helping Lydia would make him appealing in Elizabeth's regard. He only wished to rectify his mistake and leave it as that. There was no other ulterior motive, and Darcy wanted to make it clear._

" _I have known during our acquaintance that her good opinion is rarely bestowed, and therefore, more worth the earning. If I have earned her good graces as a result of my deeds, then that is for her to say; not I. My wishes were to ensure a young lady did not fall victim due to my own transgressions. Nothing more."_

 _Mr. Bennet nodded, although he did not hint if the response was agreeable or not. He only made a noncommittal noise as he cleared his throat. "Which brings us to the purpose of this little meeting does it not? It is for my daughter's hand you seek, yes?"_

" _Yes. I have asked Miss Bennet for her hand in marriage and she has accepted."_

" _You seek my blessing?"_

" _I do—"_

" _I suppose I should be pleased that I will have another daughter wed; however, I do believe that marriage is a death sentence for young ladies, especially with those whose skills in the deadly arts surpass a man's. I must inquire… do you wish Lizzy to lay down her sword?" More often than naught, ladies would give up their training to be the prim and happy wives that would potentially lead to their demise if they were not too careful. It was a fate Mr. Bennet did not wish for his daughters, especially his Lizzy._

" _Fervently, I do not wish it of her. I would be asking her to cut off her own arm."_

 _Mr. Bennet chuckled affectionately. "Well said sir! You are certainly gaining an unconventional wife as you must know."_

" _Conventions have never been my style. I, too, find society to be prosaic. I would rather be on the battlefield in combat with the undead. Alas, it's my namesake and duty that I abide by the rules for propriety as well as for my sister's. Miss Bennet's skill with the blade is one of the finest I have ever seen and she is in every way my equal to count upon for battle."_

" _You will have her fight at your side?"_

 _Holding back a smirk, Darcy rejoined: "More like I will be at her side."_

" _There is no taming her. Lizzy knows her mind and will act on her whims."_

" _I would have her act accordingly and befitting as a warrior. After all, I had the intention of leaving her at Hingham Bridge to conduct my rescue in secret. If she had not come after me, then I would not be standing before you now and Lydia would have been a lost soul."_

" _She can be insolent, stubborn."_

" _The same can be said about me. However, as I stated, were it not for her willfulness I would not be here and you would be minus one daughter."_

 _Mr. Bennet hummed in agreement. "Other men would not find such obstinate behavior agreeable in a wife."_

" _I am not like most men." This time Darcy forged a smile that was born from admiration and endearment. There was no doubting his felicity when it came to Elizabeth. Even Mr. Bennet could see how infatuated Mr. Darcy was for his second eldest despite the man's penchant for being disagreeable and impassive. To be frank, everything that Mr. Darcy said during this interview had been everything Mr. Bennet hoped a young man might say about his Lizzy. He never thought it was possible to find a man that would be befitting his favorite child and would not wish to change her or have her retire her warrior skills. He couldn't imagine parting with her to anyone less worthy._

 _Yet…_

 _There was something else preying on Mr. Darcy's mind. It had been lurking there since Darcy stepped foot into the library and throughout this interview. Before Mr. Bennet could ask, Darcy volunteered first._

" _I can understand if you have any misgivings. I have not presented myself auspiciously and my conduct was not as it should be given my station. As a warrior, I have been dishonorable and I will do what I must to atone for my mistakes. Indeed I wish to marry Elizabeth but first I must insist that I restore my honor so I will be befitting to her as a husband and warrior. I wish to invoke the_ Róngyù yíshì _."_

 _Mr. Bennet's brows arched in astonishment as Mr. Darcy uttered the Chinese words for the honor ritual. For one, he did not believe that the proud gentleman would have even known a single word in Chinese; secondly, such a mode of declaration was unheard of. The ritual was intended in the restoration of one's honor in the family or to correct a grievous wrong. Typically, the one seeking redemption would in a ceremonious matter offer themselves up to the wronged party to do as they wished. Unlike the Japanese, the Chinese did not expect a_ Seppuku _or suicide (for it defeats the purpose), but the honor ritual could, in fact, lead to a physical sacrifice like a dismembered finger or breaking a bone or being whipped. Or the wronged may issue a challenge of some kind. Whatever the wronged seeks the person must follow to the letter. Usually the greater the offense, the greater the lengths the dishonored must take. Even to the amount of blood that needed to be shed._

 _The ritual was far too grisly for the English to undertake and the thought of injuring any part of one's body (even if it was willing and consenting) was ghastly. Of course, the whole objective was entirely missed by the Western world, but Mr. Bennet had to admire Mr. Darcy's request. Then again, not everyone might see the wisdom in this entreaty. Mrs. Bennet, for one, would be affronted over the very notion; and depending on what Mr. Bennet decided, if Mr. Darcy did not look immaculate then it could ruin her perfect vision of a high society wedding. On the other hand, Mr. Bennet might be willing to risk Mrs. Bennet's nerves if the young man truly wanted to partake in this demand._

 _Indeed, there would be Hell to pay yet Mr. Bennet could not find it within himself to reject the application._

" _I see. Are you aware of what this invocation entails?"_

" _I do."_

" _I must say… I am impressed. It is not every day a father with a daughter (or multiple daughters in my case) has to consider the_ Róngyù yíshì _to the hopeful intendeds. Frankly, I have never met anyone admitting to their acts of wrongdoing and wish to follow what could be a painful reinstatement. Most of my acquaintances would settle for a hearty apology and be done with it!"_

" _Indeed I would agree with your assessment; however, I do not believe a 'hearty apology' would suffice for my past deeds. No… I have a lot at stake as a warrior and gentleman. Direct action is the best course in remedying my errors and I will not settle for less, sir!"_

 _Mr. Bennet rose from his seat as he spread his fingers across the ornate desk. "Are you willing to submit to whatever I deem worthy and acceptable to restore your honor?"_

" _Yes."_

" _Even if my request is that I do not wish for you to wed my Lizzy?"_

 _Darcy looked him squarely in the eye. "It would kill me, but I would honor your request. But whether or not Elizabeth may wish to follow your decree might be another. I might have little choice if she decides to elope instead."_

" _You would go against my word?"_

" _At your daughter's whim… I may. She is quite ferocious and her wrath I dare not wish to evoke."_

" _Besides my daughter's wrath, you will endure whatever afflictions at my choosing?"_

" _Yes."_

" _That is a heavy charge to make."_

" _I will do anything to secure Elizabeth's future happiness even at my own expense. Pray, what is your decision?"_

" _You may regret your choice of words sir if this is in fact what you truly wish."_

" _I fail to see what regrets I could possibly have."_

" _Oh, my dear boy, you are underestimating what could happen."_

" _Be as it may," Darcy went on. "I must answer to my past. I no longer wish to stall Mr. Bennet."_

" _Hmm. I see." Mr. Bennet toyed long enough with him and he was impressed with Mr. Darcy's patience thus far. "Very well Mr. Darcy. As you are a warrior, I think a fitting kind of honor should take place. I may be your senior but I can still hold my own in battle."_

" _You wish to challenge—?"_

 _Mr. Bennet gave a nod. "Yes. We shall battle until the first sight of blood. If you wish to marry Lizzy, then you must fight with everything you have in your arsenal. I will not give my blessing to you if I suspect you are doing me a kindness in defeating you. Regardless of the outcome, I will give the final say on my daughter's marriage."_

 _The conditions were acceptable to Darcy. Even if Mr. Bennet decided he would not grant his blessing… Darcy would accept his terms. Not being able to marry Elizabeth would be a death sentence, but if it was what he must do to prove his honor and love, then he would do exactly as Mr. Bennet bid. His future happiness depended on Elizabeth's father and Darcy dared not refuse him. He wanted to earn the privilege of having Mr. Bennet's consent._

 _Mr. Bennet loosened his coat and cravat and draped them over the desk. Darcy followed his example and soon both men faced each other bowing before the other._

 _As soon as Darcy straightened his posture, he immediately blocked Mr. Bennet's hand chop with his left arm, deflecting the strike and readying his right fist to make his first assault. Before Darcy could deliver, Mr. Bennet surprised him with a deft hook that grazed his chin but effectively led the young warrior to take the a couple steps back to catch his balance. Mr. Bennet chuckled at the bewildered expression as he swiftly moved into the tiger claw position._

" _Like I said Mr. Darcy… I can_ _ **still**_ _hold my own in battle."_

 _Darcy's eyes glimmered with awe as a slow curl of his lip indicated this was going to be war._

 _Then both men lunged._

"…Your father proved to be an adept and formidable opponent. I have trained and sparred with many a skilled fighter without losing composure, but your father had quite the upper-hand in our match that I scarcely knew where the next strike would come!"

Elizabeth's initial response was to smile affectionately for her Papa did love the element of surprise, and if he could stump a warrior of Mr. Darcy's caliber to keep him from guessing his next move, then he showed him exactly how wrong he had been to underestimate the Bennet name. It was the type of toying Elizabeth often employed and she had learned from the best. From her younger years, Mr. Bennet would strike his daughters unawares to ensure they were always prepared whenever they least expected it. One of his favorite ploys (and one that often drove her mother insane with grief) was in the midst of a spar Mr. Bennet would suddenly clutch his chest and drop to the ground feigning heart pain only to pin the daughters who stood over him frantic with worry. Elizabeth caught onto his games and she would return the favor with feigning a horrid injury as well—

Affection gave way to mortification as the thought crossed Elizabeth's mind that her father had pulled the same hoax on her intended. While Darcy was capable of holding his own in a fight, she knew he harbored those guilty feelings and despite his noble intentions of wanting to put things to right, she also knew he could easily fall prey to Mr. Bennet's unorthodox albeit fiendish tricks. It was one thing to pull such a jinx on one's own children, but on someone who wishes to be part of the family? Elizabeth would certainly have to devise some kind of punishment to get back at her father. Teasing Mr. Darcy was one thing but cruelly manipulating him was another.

"Elizabeth?" Darcy's voice pierced through her plotting thoughts as she blinked at him, her fist clenching at her side.

"Tell me—and please be honest—did my father suffer a spontaneous heart surprise?"

Mr. Darcy gazed at her with a hint of a smile. "Why… yes. Forgive me but my first instinct was not to go to him in aid lest it was a ploy. He seemed quite sincere at that moment and I nearly stopped to offer assistance but thought it much wiser if I were to fetch Mrs. Bennet."

Elizabeth covered her mouth to stifle a giggle. "You didn't!"

"Only the mention of your mother was all the medicine Mr. Bennet needed to fully recover and we continued our sparring."

"Very impressive. I'm sure Papa had not expected you to play along."

"Frankly, neither did I. I very much wanted to make amends and I was willing to do anything it took to receive his consent, even if I had to concede a fight. However, this fight was quite significant and I could not risk failing."

"Well, I'm sure Papa would not think ill of you if you had lost. Although I have to admit that suggesting a fight to restore your friendship was a bit excessive. A simple apology should have been the only requirement." Even after she said this, Elizabeth could not forget that she, too, also submitted herself to his aunt for the part she played that led to Mr. Darcy's incapacitation. An apology alone did not feel enough but she did owe Lady Catherine a favor. Indeed, she and Mr. Darcy were more alike in thoughts and actions. No, she could not fault Mr. Darcy for going to such lengths.

"It was more than that." Here, Darcy felt unusually warm around the collar.

"Dare I ask who shed the first blood?" Elizabeth teased.

 _They were breathing heavily but neither man was willing to step down as they continued to face each other. Around them, the room bore the brunt of the duel. Shards of broken vases covered the floor, a table was turned over, papers were scattered all over, and even a misfortunate frame had fallen prey to the warriors' use. Surprisingly, they had not brought attention to their destruction or even the notice of Lady Catherine's Guard. Although, it would be more apt if Mr. Collins had sensed the poor library's anguish and rush to the aid of Lady Catherine's priceless décor._

 _Darcy was of the mind he would pay for the damages that were incurred. Not that he was thinking how much the costs would be while he and Mr. Bennet danced around the other. Mr. Bennet was not like any foe he had the pleasure in fighting. In fact, he never came across one that was cunning and sly as Mr. Bennet. The older man's false heart attack almost tricked Darcy._

 _Almost._

 _Mr. Bennet made it clear he would not consider his blessing if he suspected Darcy did not treat this as a fair fight. So Darcy did not fall for the act and he counted Mr. Bennet's quick smile as a victory on his behalf._

 _Now, Darcy had to outfox the silver fox in this lair._

 _Out of the corner of his eye, Darcy espied the tip of a letter opener sticking out from underneath the pile of papers. It was not a lethal weapon but it could do the trick._

 _Without warning, Darcy rolled across the room and quickly seized the letter opener. He jumped to his feet, biting back a whimper from his protesting leg, and revealed his weapon. Mr. Bennet spared it a glance as he, too, also grabbed an object to use as a weapon. It was a candlestick but Darcy could not help smirking at Mr. Bennet's confident countenance._

" _Sir, you have only a letter opener. At least I have some bearing on my part with this candlestick."_

" _You're underestimating my Aunt and this library," Darcy replied as his thumb grazed the handle, triggering the letter opener to release another blade, which was sharper and longer._

 _Mr. Bennet was impressed with the clever device but he still believed he had the upper hand in this advantage. He advanced towards Darcy as the young man dropped to the floor and swung his leg out, toppling the older gentleman over. Darcy once more had to bite down on his bottom lip to keep from crying out in pain, but he could not let Mr. Bennet know his injuries were still a bother._

 _The kick did knock the wind out of Mr. Bennet and his grip on the candlestick loosened and he was no longer armed. Darcy, breathing hard, came over him and pressed the tip of the blade to Mr. Bennet's jawline, nicking the skin as a small droplet of blood coated the end._

" _I believe you have shed first," Darcy disclosed._

 _Mr. Bennet chuckled. "Indeed! I concede to you sir."_

 _Darcy released a breath of air as he dropped the letter opener beside him and shakily stood. He held out his hand and helped Mr. Bennet up. Both men bowed as they both expelled a groan from the simple gesture._

 _Straightening, they assessed each other as Darcy waited for the final recommendation. This was the single and most important announcement in his life. Whatever Mr. Bennet decided during the spar and hereafter will determine the happiness of Darcy's future with Elizabeth Bennet._

" _I must admit… you certainly did not disappoint Mr. Darcy," Mr. Bennet began once regaining the air in his lungs to speak. "You do live up to your title."_

" _I thank you," Darcy answered. "Your battle techniques are commendable. You are certainly quite a master."_

" _I don't know if I would call myself such but I shall take the compliment."_

" _As you should. With five daughters to train… your skills are remarkable. I mean that sincerely after witnessing your daughters in battle. I have never seen such talents even among my own acquaintances. In fact, I must admit that even my own hand at my sister's training could not be considered equal. Although, my sister does have an inclination towards the battle ax and can yield it mercilessly. As for myself, I can see my fighting skills can do with more work."_

" _We can all take benefit with more work to our fighting skills. Even the older and experienced ones. Now. I do believe we still have business to attend to as I can earnestly say you have restored your honor in my eyes Mr. Darcy. You did not fall for my little trick and that speaks for your character in battle. As much as we care for our loved ones… falling in battle does require that crucial and perhaps cruel decision in soldiering on and not stopping. Lizzy has been trained on that regard that abandoning your partner might depend on one's survival. But only if the fallen cannot get back on his or her own feet."_

" _I'm afraid Mr. Bennet I cannot concur with that statement. I would do my utmost to protect any of my men—including the fallen ones—unless their wounds prove to be mortal and would inevitably succumb to the ranks of the undead. Then I would strive to provide a swift and merciful end so they do not have to rise against the living. However, if I may be so bold, I do not think I would be able to bring myself to commit this kindness if Elizabeth should fall. I love her too much to give her death but if she asks it of me… I cannot deny her. But I will have to take the sword too so I cannot be without her. She is my equal, my better and to live a life without her in it would be unfathomable. I know the cold and wretchedness of life before I met her. I will not return to a cold and wretchedness life after her."_

 _It was a confession born from his heart and soul—an intimate glimpse of the impenetrable Colonel Fitzwilliam Darcy. No man could doubt the candor in his voice or in his features._

 _Even Mr. Bennet, a man who could find the humor in almost everything, could not deny the solemnity in this vow. This was not a matter to be laughed at or even mocked. It was a daily risk for a warrior and Mr. Bennet could not bear the thought of learning his Lizzy being left on a field to die and becoming a bride of the undead._

 _Mr. Bennet's silence soon became unnerving to Darcy as the suspense on whether or not a blessing would be bestowed began to wrought chaos in his mind._

" _Mr. Bennet, I must insist we end these pleasantries. You have me at your mercy!"_

 _Taking pity on the young warrior, Mr. Bennet knew the time for fun and games was over. "I have no doubt what you say is true in regards to my daughter. It pleases me immensely to know that there is a man worthy in loving my deadly Lizzy."_

 _Hope flared in his chest as Darcy asked, "Am I assuming that I have your blessing?"_

" _Sir, you had my blessing way before you walked into this room. Lizzy made quite a case on your behalf and who am I to deny my daughter's choice of a husband? Even if he happens to be a disagreeable fellow in society's eyes, at least you are competent with a sword."_

 _There was no disguise in the amusement in Mr. Bennet's voice and Darcy, himself, felt a little foolish yet relieved he had Mr. Bennet's permission to wed Elizabeth._

"…I not only restored my honor in your father's eyes, but I also earned the honor and privilege of having that blessing."

Darcy would have gone several more rounds with the Bennet patriarch if he needed to do so. Damn the consequences with his leg. There was nothing more rewarding than knowing he had earned that respect and fortitude, not only from her father but from her too. He did not want her to have any lingering doubts about _him_. He already made the mistake in assuming she would have him on merit and reputation. He was not going to repeat that error again.

Mr. Darcy was sullen and quiet without warning that Elizabeth wondered if something else happened in that library that he had not shared. She was absolutely positive that her defense of Mr. Darcy's character and the confirmation of her father's permission would set his conscience at ease. Had her father set some conditions on behalf of his blessing? What did Mr. Darcy agree to that would make his countenance morose?

Her brow furrowed. She could not abide with suspense! She reached for his hand, gripping it tightly, as she imploringly looked into his eyes.

He had not realized he had given her reason to be concerned—so consumed with his own feelings of inadequacy and insecurity—he had not taken into account she might have thought there was reservations of some sort. To relieve the leeriness, Darcy covered her hand with his, squeezing it affectionately.

"Do not fret. I am merely thinking of the past, which was an unhappy time. Forgive me."

Elizabeth could only blush in remembrance of her scathing rejection to him. How long ago that felt! It was as if she had been a different person, and yet… She could never forget the final blow she had struck when she told him emphatically that he was "the last man in the world I would ever be prevailed upon marrying" followed with her jabbing him with a letter opener near his heart. Recalling that moment, Elizabeth felt the weight of the symbolic gesture as her fingers brushed the phantom wound before placing her palm flat over his beating heart. Through his clothing, she could feel the rhythmic pulse and feeling entirely grateful that life still coursed through him.

Love changed them both but Elizabeth felt the impact acutely for she knew how close it had been in never having the chance to feel his heartbeat the way she was now. It was strange for her to feel this way, but then again, marriage had not always been an appealing notion. After all, marriage meant she would have to give up her sword.

It was the exact reason she had sworn off the sacrament for she knew most eligible young men preferred to be the ones to do the fighting and receive the glory with their zombie kills. Indeed, it was considered to be an attractive quality for a lady to acquire the skills but to maintain was another. It was the only way for a young woman of considerable wealth and status to snag a husband who would find the physicality useful and prove her strength capable for child-birthing. Then and only then would the expectation for the woman was to quit her ways with the deadly arts to focus on the child-rearing and keeping a household.

Elizabeth always felt such an expectation was ridiculous and absurd. Why should a woman be forced to give up her ways of a warrior? Why couldn't the man? It was why she admired Lady Catherine profoundly. She was a woman who was highly regarded and decorated for her swords and marksmanship in the great battles with the undead. Not even marriage could prevent or sway her from the battlefield. Not even her own child could keep her at home. Lady Catherine fought for England and would continue to do so despite society's adamant decree that a woman belonged in the home.

Lady Catherine was the exception and Elizabeth fancied she would do the same… as a spinster.

Now, the tides had changed. Elizabeth found herself longing for matrimony in a way she never thought possible. Not because she wished to have a husband but to be joined together with a warrior like Mr. Darcy who respected and lauded her—it was highly reprehensible! And yet, Mr. Darcy did not wish for her to change.

It was her turn to frown as she could not recall if Mr. Darcy had spoken his wishes about where she stood. While he did make the comment about her accepting him as a husband, he had not said if she _would_ fight at his side. In fact, Elizabeth _surmised_ his intentions were for her to keep up her sword-fighting skills.

Surely, he did not expect her to give all that up after everything they had gone through with Wickham!

"Elizabeth?"

"Mr. Darcy," she said her voice unyielding even though within she was hesitant to hear what he might say. As a warrior, the very thought or idea of wavering was something she held in disdain. She wasn't a dainty woman by any means but she felt herself faltering if Mr. Darcy were to dash her hopes. "What are your expectations of me?"

His brow lifted in astonishment and puzzlement. "What do you mean?"

"I mean… where do I stand?"

"In regards to…?"

Was he purposefully playing daft? The Mr. Darcy she was acquainted with was not fond of games and Elizabeth had to wonder if he was leading her on as part of some grand joke to make it seem he could be jovial. Had he been one of her silly sisters Elizabeth would have grabbed him by the throat and throttled the truth out of him. Already she was apprehensive that Mr. Darcy would wish to have a traditional wife and Elizabeth knew she could not obey such fancies. It was not in her nature to be happily content in the home while her husband was off hunting and killing the unmentionables. She would become stark-raving mad if that was the case!

"Do not _toy_ with me, Mr. Darcy," Elizabeth growled. "You and I are perfectly aware of society's understanding with married ladies. I must know what your expectations are if we are going to be married."

"If?" Darcy repeated incredulously.

"I must warn you sir—I refuse to stand down from my calling as the bride of death. I will keep my sword sharp and sheathed at my side when the time is needed. I _will not_ play the simpering housewife or the worrisome mother. If you cannot reconcile, then I have to say that our engagement must come to an end. I will not accept anything less nor will I give up my love for battle. It pains me to speak these words, but there it is."

The furrow in his countenance relaxed as Darcy covered her hand, trapping her against his heart. "I thought you understood. I have no wish or desire for you to become the simpering housewife or the worrisome mother. I wish for you to be who you are: a mighty warrior, a bride of death, a zombie slayer—"

Darcy's sentence abruptly came to a halt with the fierce she-warrior sealing his mouth with an impassioned kiss.

Colors exploded in his eyes and he reacted expeditiously as only as a fierce he-warrior could do: arms snaking around her slender waist, fingers digging and grasping fabric, hauling and crushing her length against him. All thoughts of decorum and rectitude vanished as primal urges consumed his actions, overtaking his body without thought, as he plundered the sweet crevice that she so willingly offered and returned as her nails grazed the back of his neck, sending delicious shockwaves all over and eliciting a primitive growl deep in the back of his throat. Never had he thought such a spot would be so erogenous that when Elizabeth repeated the same motion, but this time, her nails pressing harder, it triggered in him a wild and frenzy desire to possess and take. When his mouth slid over her pulse point, beating frantically, he was suddenly reminded (in a most untimely and inconvenient moment of clarity) that this was no place for a hasty copulation in his aunt's garden. Moreover, he did not want his animalistic pawing and amorous attentions on Elizabeth's person to scandalize her family. He already reclaimed his honor once, and he did not wish to lose it.

Indeed, it did take quite the willpower for Darcy to temper the passions stirred and for him to steal his lips from her tempting ones. Elizabeth Bennet was a Siren in disguise, one he would gladly follow into the ocean's depths. Frankly, he would do anything if she whispered in his ear.

Elizabeth did not know what overcame her but she sensed the wisdom in Mr. Darcy's restraint as she took a couple steps back to rein in her own tumultuous impulses. The last thing neither wanted was to be caught in a compromising situation despite they were engaged. As it were, only a couple of people knew about the proposal.

"I think it might be wise if we make our engagement a short one," Darcy urged. "Shorter than the required time for the banns."

"Yes," Elizabeth concurred. "Actually, Jane and I were thinking about a double wedding."

"A double wedding?"

She nodded. "Mama is fearful that there might be another zombie attack and wishes to have the wedding for Jane and Mr. Bingley straightaway. It would not surprise me if Mama coerced Lady Catherine to host the nuptials here in Rosings."

"It could be easily arranged."

Elizabeth was taken aback. She had meant her comment about Rosings as a jest but Mr. Darcy was agreeable to the notion.

Moving his head in agreement, Mr. Darcy murmured, "Yes, yes. I do believe my Aunt would be open to the wedding here."

"She will?" Elizabeth could not be so certain. In her haste (not to mention her newfound hopes), Elizabeth almost forgotten Lady Catherine's earlier assertion that Mr. Darcy and her daughter Anne were already promised. Regardless Elizabeth did manage to secure her ladyship's respect and admiration, she could not help but pause that Lady Catherine would not be so amiable to a union between her nephew and Elizabeth. In fact, Lady Catherine might call upon her favor to make sure such a union did not take place. She had to prepare Mr. Darcy if his aunt was unwilling to give her consent. "Mr. Darcy, I have something I must tell you."

Too caught up in his planning, Darcy did not hear Elizabeth's statement. He took her hand and began to head back to the house where everyone was on their way in waking up.

"We will make our announcement right away," Darcy continued. "I will speak to Lady Catherine and the arrangements can start at once."

Elizabeth's mind was in a tailspin but she had to stop him before it was too late, before Lady Catherine could object to their marriage.

"Mr. Darcy! I insist you let me speak now prior to an audience with Lady Catherine!"

Darcy slowed his strides as he turned to face Elizabeth. "What—?"

"Ah! Darcy and Miss Bennet! The two people I wish to see."

The couple in question looked at Lady Catherine, the reckoning force in all of England, as she coyly smiled.

"Please. Follow me into the library. I do believe we have quite a bit to chat about."

TBC…


	4. Chapter 4

A/N: Thank you once more to everyone for reading and reviewing! The next chapter will be the end of this story. I am so glad that you are enjoying this!

 **Chapter 4**

Lady Catherine de Bourgh was often called "Lady Catherine the Great" but there was a very good reason why Elizabeth had once stated, "To take arms against you my lady would be to take arms against England." Stories had been regaled about Lady Catherine's merits to the point of legendary status. In particular, during the Second Battle of Kent in 1793, it had been said that Lady Catherine single-handedly slaughtered over a thousand of the undead. Her lone assault came about when the officers could not decide upon a strategy to attack the enemy, and becoming weary of the debates, Lady Catherine marched out of the camp into the unmentionables territory and the rest was history. It was the same battle that resulted in the loss of her left eye, yet it was a small price to pay for the victory claimed for the living.

It was why Elizabeth admired her ladyship for so long and why she could not bring herself to fight the indomitable woman. Lady Catherine was a living and breathing mythological creature and one did not dare to oppose her will. However, Elizabeth had risen to the occasion when Lady Catherine insisted she fight her proxy.

Now, Elizabeth's courage was again called to rise once more as she and Mr. Darcy stood before his aunt. This time… the falsehood of her and Darcy's engagement was actually true.

Lady Catherine was sitting smartly, her black eye scrutinizing, as she crossed her legs over and rested her arms on the armrest. Her countenance was composed despite the slight pursing of her lips. Silence poured off her but there was no denying who was in charge at the present moment. Her presence alone was domineering regardless of the past months of congeniality shared.

"I must say I would have expected more from you, my dear nephew," she began in her off-handed yet patronizing tone. "A superior man such as yourself does not go off gallivanting in the early hours with a young woman unchaperoned. Even if the said young woman is a guest and prone to early morning walks."

"Lady Catherine, I—" Darcy tried to say but his aunt halted all speech with a flick of her wrist.

"I am not finished," she interjected smoothly. Darcy bowed his head as a sign of respect for her to continue. "I do not care for nor do I like when matters are conducted secretively. It is quite droll especially when there is not a single thing under this roof that passes by without my knowledge. Take this library, for example. I see some effort was taken to cover up the fight that occurred. Despite the missing vases (which are broken I have no doubt), any other person would assume they were misplaced, forgotten, or maybe stolen by a disgruntled servant. But that is not what happened here."

Her last sentence was directed at Mr. Darcy. Her sudden silence indicated he was allowed to speak.

"Your ladyship let me assure you that the fight in the library was not going to be a cover up. I have too much of a high regard and respect for you to do otherwise. I intended to speak to you privately to pay for the vases when there was a moment."

"I would not have expected any less from you, Mr. Darcy," Lady Catherine replied. "Mr. Bennet has apologized as well and claimed it was a necessity, but that was not my meaning when I mentioned the library. It was merely an example. I was still referring to the fact that you and Miss Bennet here were together. Alone. Something you failed to concede from the beginning with my charge."

"My apologies. I was mistaken with your observations in regards to the library."

"Clearly." Lady Catherine continued to keep her attention on her nephew, but Elizabeth felt her ire rising that the famed warrior was purposely ignoring her presence and speaking as if she was not there at all. Her fists clenched but Elizabeth fought to keep her temper in check lest her actions became regrettable.

"I should add that you, nephew, have a strong sense of responsibility when it comes to your duties to this family. After all, your mother was my sister and it falls on my shoulders to be the surrogate mother when the occasion rises. I, like yourself, do not take these responsibilities lightly. So let me be frank and ask you once and for all: what are your intentions towards my daughter Anne?"

Darcy kept his gaze for most of the interrogation on his aunt's boots, his head slightly bowed, but her question had him breaking the gesture of deference as his dark eyes held his aunt's black one with a refractory expression that brook no opposition.

"I know the expectations placed on me since I was a child. I know my mother's dying wish was to unite our families and fortunes in maintaining a superior bloodline of warriors. While I do keep my duties and responsibilities to my family seriously, I cannot obey this wish. It would be a disservice as I told you previously when you _kindly_ reminded me when Anne was of marrying age. I have never expressed any interest in pursuing or courting Anne and to do so will be out of pity. She does not possess the way of the deadly arts and nor does she have the strength that a young woman of her age should have as she has been ailing all these years. However, as she is family, I do intend to make sure she has the best care available at the time of your demise. I will not abandon her but I will not marry her."

"I see." Her tone was placid, detached. Not one might expect from whose child was thoroughly rejected. "Am I correct to presume the 'necessity' that Mr. Bennet spoken of and your own submission having something to do with your indiscretion?"

"Indiscretion?" Mr. Darcy balked.

Finally, Lady Catherine rested her attention on the young woman in question. "How silent you are Miss Bennet. I would not have recognized this compliance in your character."

"It is not compliance your ladyship," Elizabeth responded. "It is the highest form of discipline not to indulge in one's violent tendencies."

"Oh? Do tell Miss Bennet. What is it you want to do?"

"As I told you, I do not possess your frankness but you may ask questions that I may choose not to answer. However, in this case, what I want is to know the point of this meeting."

Lady Catherine's lips curved. "Then I shall get to the point. Are _you_ engaged to Mr. Darcy?"

How strange it was that months ago the same question had been posed to contradict a troubling rumor that reached Lady Catherine's ears! Now, the past intended to repeat itself and Elizabeth was staring at the mighty lion in her den with a reply she wished she could have said the first time.

"Yes."

Elizabeth did not know what to expect from her admission and Lady Catherine's demeanor did not change with the newfound knowledge. Then again, it was possible that her ladyship had already known and was baiting them for some other purpose. It occurred to Elizabeth that it was possible that Lady Catherine might be enacting her own retribution. Indeed, the unassailable warrior had expressed her discontent about the notion of Elizabeth and Mr. Darcy being engaged. Maybe she was getting her wish granted—having Elizabeth admit to the engagement before she called in her favor and forced Elizabeth to denounce the whole thing.

It was diabolical. And yet, Elizabeth knew she had no other choice but to obey. She had given her word to Lady Catherine and as much as it killed her to do… Elizabeth must hold her end of the bargain.

"Miss Bennet," Lady Catherine said. "I cannot account for your queer expression. I thought engagements a rather happy occasion."

Darcy had to wonder the thought himself. His warrior bride-to-be had lost the glow in her eyes as she gazed downcast and solemn, but a single glimpse in his direction had his chest tighten painfully. Did she regret it? Did she think of him as unworthy after all? The man wanted to fall on his knees in supplication, to kiss her skirts, and promise his eternal soul to damnation if she willed as long as she would accept him as her husband, her servant. Yet it was the warrior that stood tall and true, impassable to the raging emotions that threatened to disembowel him, if Elizabeth should decree an end to their fledging nuptials.

"Indeed," Elizabeth answered her voice hardly above a whisper. "It is a feeling I never thought I would know." She tore her attention from Mr. Darcy and stared at Lady Catherine with defiance now overtaking her features as she took a defensive pose lest the older woman should strike. "And one I intend to have for the rest of my life. I know what you will ask of me and I must implore you that you do not."

"What is it that I will ask of you?" Lady Catherine queried with the slight twist of her mouth and the arch of her brow.

"Enough games!" Elizabeth hissed, her hand brandishing the dagger she kept strapped to her thigh. "You once challenged to fight me in Longbourne. I refused. But I will fight you to my dying breath if you command me to release Mr. Darcy from our engagement."

To say Darcy was bewildered was an understatement and yet his aunt propositioning a challenge was not unfounded. Something had passed between his beloved Elizabeth and his relative and there was no doubt in his mind that it had been about him and his aunt's perceived belief he was engaged to her daughter. It also begged the question as the timing over this "challenge" and it must have been before Hingham. Before his Elizabeth swore her love to him amidst the destruction…

He had thought the close brush with death had revealed Elizabeth's feelings, but if his aunt challenged her to a duel prior to it, then that would mean Elizabeth might have loved him already and Lady Catherine wanted Anne's rival out of the way. Hope unlike any other coursed through his veins and it left no question or doubt that Elizabeth Bennet found him as a worthy and equal partner.

"My, my Miss Bennet! Such resilient fire!" Lady Catherine rose from her seat, as she too, was also armed with a blade. "You would dare to defy me after the promise you swore to me about accepting any request I make as penance for _your_ culpability in my nephew's injuries!"

"I know it goes against my very fiber as a warrior," Elizabeth confessed. "A price needs to be paid for a debt that was incurred. I will honor any other order but this. I love him Lady Catherine. I will _die_ if necessary; even kill you, the essence and spirit of England."

Lady Catherine raised her arm, preparing to throw the knife, but lowered her weapon instead, to the amazement of the two young fighters.

"I believe I know what I admire most about you Miss Bennet." She stepped away from the desk as she came face-to-face with Elizabeth. "You passed. I never thought it possible but I was wrong. You truly care for Mr. Darcy and there's strength to that. I wholeheartedly give my blessing to your union."

Elizabeth faltered, not sure if she heard correctly or if she misunderstood entirely. "What?"

Lady Catherine chuckled. "You, my dear, are a reckoning force. Your loyalty knows no bounds and your heart is pure and true. It is the making of a very fine and noble warrior, and one I would welcome in my retinue."

"You would?"

"Yes but I would add that it only pertains to you. I cannot account for your family; although, I must admit, the tutelage in your small estate did do you a service. I was mistaken to think otherwise." Casting a look at Mr. Darcy, Lady Catherine continued, "I am fully aware my preference was not yours, but I do thank you for your promise to this family. It does put the mind at ease. Now, I do believe you have an announcement to make." With a swish of her coattails, Lady Catherine strode out of the library with her mission at last completed.

Elizabeth and Darcy exchanged looks as they realized there were no more impediments to consider. However, Darcy had to know what his aunt meant about the promise that Elizabeth swore to her.

Sheathing the dagger back in its proper place, Elizabeth ducked so her intended could not see the rising color in her cheeks. "Tis nothing. Your aunt and I have an understanding."

"I know my aunt and I know the promises she can extract," he explained. "Elizabeth, you do not know what Lady Catherine will ask—"

"I know I don't," Elizabeth told him, meeting his eye. "But in the moment, it was a choice I gladly made. Besides, I have not spoken to you about your decision to run after my sister in a rescue that should have been mine to make."

"Touché."

xxXXxx

Once they exited the library, the remaining houseguests were starting to emerge from their rooms as they ascended to the dining room for breakfast. Mrs. Bennet continued to crow over Jane and Mr. Bingley's wedding even while they dined. Much to everyone's credit they wisely kept quiet as Mrs. Bennet debated with herself on over what fabric would be best suited for Jane's soft skin. "It would not do for a bride to break out in a rash if the dress is subpar," Mrs. Bennet announced sagely.

Mr. Bennet stifled a muffled cough as he reached for his tea. Caroline lifted her napkin to dab her mouth, but truthfully, had to cover her snickering as her gaze darted to the person on her left (Anne de Bourgh) to share a look over Mrs. Bennet's oversharing impropriety; however, she was quickly reminded that it was not her sister Louisa on her left and had to conceal her turn of disgust as poor Miss de Bourgh continued to stare vacantly at her plate of toast and egg with a little string of drool hanging over her dry lips. Lydia and Kitty were uncharacteristically silent over their mother's comment, and Mary did not stop in her task of smothering her toast with jam and preserves. As for Jane and her Mr. Bingley, they did not seem to have heard Mrs. Bennet as they continued to look adoringly at one another. Although, not to appear she was neglecting her mother's good opinion, Jane dutifully replied, "Yes Mama."

"I do like lace but it makes my Jane look sickly. Silk is much better, I daresay. Very elegant."

"Indeed," Mr. Collins chirped. "I understand the young ladies do prefer silk and it is truly one of the finest fabrics. I was telling my own soon to-be-bride that if she wanted silk, then she was choosing a gown far superior than any other gown in all the land."

"Ah, Charlotte Lucas is going to be wearing silk?" Mrs. Bennet asked conversationally, although her tone suggested something else even with the slight raise of brow and pinched lips. The very idea of being upstaged by the mousy and plain Miss Lucas was not to be borne in Mrs. Bennet's mind. _Her_ Jane would be in silk if she had anything to say and Miss Lucas would have to settle for second fiddle.

Mr. Collins raised his napkin to politely cough not to conceal his blush. "Miss Lucas insisted on lace."

That seemed to greatly please Mrs. Bennet and before she could launch into another tirade, Lady Catherine cleared her throat to gather the attention from everyone around. The reaction was immediate as all heads swiveled in her direction at the head of the table. Satisfied, Lady Catherine gave a subtle nod to Mr. Darcy.

Besides enduring company of strangers (and even close friends and family), Mr. Darcy also loathed in making public announcements. It was one thing to give an order on the battlefield; it was another to speak openly or even intimately. While the thought did fill him with dread, he was also filled with anticipation of the pleasant kind in that he would announce that Elizabeth Bennet had accepted his proposal. He sought out her fine eyes across from him, her smile lending him the strength he needed to conquer the uncomfortable feeling as he stood.

"Friends," he started to say, his mouth suddenly dry and arid. Elizabeth did not break her gaze as he swallowed what little moisture he could gather and forced himself to look around at the guests. Mr. Bennet knew what was about to happen as he, too, offered a friendly and warm smile to encourage the young man. Even Jane Bennet was silently giving him the support with her heartening countenance. "I have an announcement of the most joyous occasion to make: Miss Elizabeth Bennet has agreed to accept my hand in matrimony." Darcy returned his glance at his fiancée—now openly known—with a swift and very brief grin before taking his seat.

A hush swept through the room as the news was quite unexpected and wholly without warning, then slowly, a rousing crescendo began to take root as felicitations and congratulations resounded.

Bingley rose and moved around to shake his friend's hand, clapping him on the back. Darcy grimaced but he appreciated his friend's enthusiasm as Bingley had known for some time his feelings towards Elizabeth. In truth, Bingley had first recognized Darcy being smitten despite Darcy's insistence he had _no_ feelings for Elizabeth Bennet whatsoever. No amount of light-hearted teasing would change Darcy's mind and Bingley kept any further observations and thoughts to himself. Until Hingham Bridge. Bingley could not forget the emotional plea from Elizabeth for his friend to wake that while on their way to the hospital in Essex he had to ask Darcy. At that point, Darcy was already starting to see the error of his ways, and finally admitted to Bingley of his intentional separation of his friend from Jane. Bingley had been upset to say the least but Darcy confided in him about Elizabeth's rejection as a peace offering. This did repair the damage as Bingley thought it was fitting that the mighty Colonel Darcy did not get his way (afterwards he would empathize with Darcy's broken heart). Now, both men were happily secured in the knowledge that they irrevocably won the loves of their lives. It was happy news to rejoice.

Jane, of course, was all too pleased and elated that her sister and Mr. Darcy were officially engaged. She embraced Elizabeth, pressing her cheek to hers, as both sisters found the right men for each other and that the bygones with Mr. Darcy were bygones as their father had given his blessing. If anything, Jane did not know it was possible for one person to feel such euphoria.

The remainder of the Bennet brood were also overjoyed that another sister was engaged. Lydia did not complained or lament the unfairness that her older sisters should be the first to marry when it had been her life's dream to beat Jane and Elizabeth to the altar. While it had been on her tongue, Lydia only had to look at Mr. Darcy to remind her of his sacrifice to save her from the undead Wickham and her newfound respect in life and maturity returned. She expressed her delight in earning another brother and how lovely Elizabeth will be in her trousseau. Following Lydia's lead, Kitty also kept her grievances to herself and hugged her sister with tenderness and showered sweet compliments. Mary—the ever conservative and serious one in the bunch—put aside her astonishment yet whispered into Elizabeth's ear, "If this is a trap, then give the word and I will smite him."

"Thank you Mary but it will not be necessary," Elizabeth rejoined in a murmur. The last thing she wanted was her sister to slaughter her fiancé. The third Bennet daughter shrugged but her expression spoke she meant her word.

The following reactions were also expected and unexpected.

Anne de Bourgh continued her blank and unresponsive stare as the drool fell into her porridge. Her companion, Mrs. Jenkinson, was the proxy to express Lady Anne's best wishes for the happy couple. Darcy and Elizabeth took it in stride as they smiled diminutively. To her credit, Anne did manage a soft grunt in reply.

Mr. Collins, always readied with a word or two (for preparation was key for any upstanding figure and addressing one's superior), had fumbled his way through "oh such joyous splendor it is" with a peculiar expression and wistful tone that barely concealed his disappointment. It had nothing to do with his fair cousin and how she had been almost promised to him when she unabashedly refused his hand despite his efforts to flatter and woo her. Elizabeth was pretty in her way, not a true beauty, but tolerable and agreeable and she would have been an excellent choice as a parson's wife. Although he had to amend Charlotte Lucas was indeed the better choice as Elizabeth had a spirit that would not be tamed and her wildness with the deadly arts could prove to be too much of a strain, even for the Darcy bloodline. He could only imagine the mortification Lady Catherine must be experiencing as he was privy to her hopes of her daughter marrying Mr. Darcy. Now Anne had the grace unlike any woman in her class and was an equal match for a powerful and important man as Mr. Darcy. Then again, even bachelorhood would also be fitting for the Colonel. However, Mr. Collins knew his place and the expectations his patroness would have for her rector so the heavyhearted smile bloomed into a radiant one as he began spouting the many happy and numerous benefits it was to be an engaged man and how thrilled he was when his Charlotte consented to become his wife and life companion.

Mrs. Bennet was quite perplexed at the announcement for she was under the impression that none of her daughters were interested in the disagreeable Darcy. Her former designs fled at his brutish and rude behavior in Meryton, and thus, began her own campaign to berate and lambast his character to any wagging tongues and listening ears—which meant the whole village. She insisted to her friends that she would be eternally grateful that no daughter of hers should be joined with Mr. Darcy regardless of his twenty thousand a year and the advantageous connections that would come in the way for the youngest girls. But none of that mattered anymore. Mr. Darcy aided in the rescue of her beloved Lydia and he convinced Lizzy (more or less) to accept his proposal. Any ill temper she had felt beforehand was now up in smoke for she had a _second_ daughter engaged to be married. Mr. Darcy was now one of her favorite people and she could not remember why she had been so harsh in her appraisal of his character.

Reading the expression of his wife's face, Mr. Bennet leaned in and whispered: "Careful, my dear. Your future son-in-law is a proud cad with ill-favor looks and the fighting instinct of an ape."

"I never said such things!" Mrs. Bennet hissed at her husband. "You misunderstood me as you are wont to do. Easily done since I clearly remember that I said Mr. Darcy was a proud _lad_ but had very handsome features and the fighting instinct of a _lion_. I would not insult anyone of the kind with those comments."

Mr. Bennet had to bite his tongue but he could not help the slight shake of his head. His wife was indeed someone prone to convenient memory selections.

Lastly, Caroline Bingley was the one person who had not mentioned her adulations. If anything, she was rather silent on the whole and her complexion became a sudden sickly pale hue causing her red hair to stand out prominently, and her lips were pinched together as if tasting something rotten. Her grip on her fork loosened but no one seemed to have heard or noticed the utensil fall back onto her plate. The only movement on her countenance was the fluttering of her eyelids, blinking in astonishment and shock. Mr. Darcy's news was startlingly and Caroline could not— _would not_ —believe it was happening except it was and with each exclamation of joy for the newly engaged couple was another twist of the knife as her hopes and wishes were quickly deflating. In her mind, she could not prevent the thoughts that it should have been _she_ who was on the receiving end of Darcy's announcement, that it should have been _she_ who was being congratulated. After all, she was in every way an equal match to Mr. Darcy: a woman of his social rank, a woman highly refined, a woman superiorly trained in the best of temples in Japan. She had known Darcy as long as he had known her brother, and she doted on his sister whenever Georgiana Darcy was visiting.

This… with Miss Elizabeth Bennet seemed too rash, too crude considering Elizabeth's very poor and inadequate Shaolin training. Elizabeth could not _compare_ to Caroline's numerous skills and talents as a female and warrior. Perhaps this engagement was some kind of misunderstanding. Indeed, Caroline glanced in Lady Catherine's direction to decipher her ladyship's reaction to what must be very grievous news. If anyone could see the imprudence to such a match, then it would be Darcy's relative.

However, Lady Catherine was watching her nephew and his fiancée with a pleasing glint in her eye. "How fortunate and lucky we are that there are two engagements here in Rosings. With so much death around us it is refreshing for a blissful event."

"Caroline, are you unwell?" Bingley asked, frowning as he took notice of his sister's lack of well wishes and her unnatural white pallor.

"I am well," Caroline said although there was an edge to her words as if saying it aloud would convince her. "This is all very surprising Mr. Darcy. Of course, I imagine Georgiana must be thrilled to have a sister to join the family now."

Ah, Miss Georgiana Darcy. Elizabeth nearly forgotten Darcy had a sister and even she was a bit curious how his sister would welcome the news. Unfortunately, Elizabeth had not the opportunity to make Miss Darcy's acquaintance, and while in the earlier stages of her familiarity with Mr. Darcy she did not care whether or not Miss Darcy was as effectively trained as a warrior and the perfect example of femininity, but now that she was to be Mr. Darcy's wife, the perspective had changed. She wanted to have Miss Darcy's approval for it was clearly evident how much he adored his sister after the mere mention of her name resulted in the softening of his features and a fondness in his eyes and tender curl of his lips.

"I am certain Georgiana will be beyond happy to hear she will have a sister at last. Alas, I have not the chance to inform her of my intentions. I will rectify this at once as I will send for her to come to Rosings," Darcy said.

"Surely you do not want to risk your sister traveling?" Mrs. Bennet pointed out. "The zombies may be trapped on the other side of Hingham Bridge, but that does not mean we could not suffer from an attack."

"My sister is highly equipped with the battle axe, madam," Darcy stated. "No zombie is a match to her skills."

"Lovely," Mrs. Bennet cooed. "Well, I think having the wedding in Derbyshire might be for the best. I heard it is quite beautiful this time of year."

"Actually, Mama," Elizabeth interjected. "Jane and I discussed this and we are of the mind to have a double wedding here in Rosings Park."

"A double wedding? How splendid!" Bingley beamed. "You don't mind do you Darcy?"

"Not at all," he responded.

"No, no," Mrs. Bennet insisted, clicking her tongue. "It is most irregular. No you girls will have your separate weddings."

Elizabeth and Jane were about to protest, yet Lady Catherine shook her head. "Nonsense. If the ladies wish to be wed together, then I do not see the harm in it. I will even say that the wedding should be conducted here. My church is one of the finest and apart from Georgiana not present… your entire families are here to witness the unions. No I do insist the weddings be done here."

Jane's eyes widened for it was a nice gesture and she could not bear the thought of separate weddings. Lady Catherine's kindness did not know any bounds.

"Lady Catherine we couldn't impose—" Mrs. Bennet could not believe her luck! Two adult daughters engaged, and the great she-warrior herself was offering her church for the girls to marry. How lucky and fortunate they were! Nevertheless, Mrs. Bennet did not want to miss her opportunity to throw two weddings as to show the neighborhood her good fortune. Yet, there was the allure of being the most talked about social event with a _double_ wedding and with the blessing of England's favorite and beloved soldier.

"I assure you there is no imposition," Lady Catherine affirmed. "Mr. Darcy, I will insist you fetch your sister. We cannot have a wedding unless the rest of the family is present nor would your sister forgive you for leaving her out."

Darcy's lips twitched. "Indeed. I will leave straightaway."

xxXXxx

"I forgot you had a sister."

Darcy arched his brow as Elizabeth stood outside his door. Once breakfast was concluded, he excused himself so he could begin packing for Pemberley. Elizabeth, naturally, followed after feigning a headache to the rest of the party. It was unfortunate this had occurred right when Mr. Collins was going to conduct his morning reading and Elizabeth made certain she sounded contrite to her cousin. Mr. Collins took her apologies well and understood the delicacies of young ladies and how they are often inflicted with this plague. He should know for his Charlotte has suffered the same malady.

"I mentioned her at Netherfield."

"Yes but if you recall… we never had a civil discussion of one's relations."

How could he forget?

"I think you will like her," Darcy continued as he went about packing his bag. "Georgiana… she is affable and generous in nature. She takes her training seriously and practices daily—a pastime I am certain you will both enjoy together. My only regret is that I have failed to encourage her from her reticence. However, I suspect, once she becomes acquainted with you and your sisters… her penchant to be reserved will alter."

"You are putting a remarkable amount of faith in me and my sisters," Elizabeth said.

"I speak from experience." He threw her a quick and dashing smile that had her heart skip a beat. But she had not come to swoon like a schoolgirl.

"I do not doubt what you say is true about her character, but will she be happy with her brother proposing marriage to a woman she has not met? From my understanding, it has been you and she all this time. I do not want her to think ill of me or to presume I am usurping her place…" She trailed off as her intended started to laugh, her eyes narrowing into dangerous slits.

"Forgive me. I do not mean to mock you but I am surprised tis all. I did not expect you to have such a notion."

"It is _not_ unreasonable," she argued. "If I had a brother who has raised me for most of my life and suddenly came home with a bride, then I would be furious."

Understanding appeared on his expression. "I see. Indeed, I would be livid myself if Georgiana done the same. Then again… it almost nearly came to it." His countenance became haunted and Elizabeth immediately realized he was referring with the incident involving Wickham and his sister.

"Darcy, I—"

He shook his head, holding up his hand. "It's behind us now. Wickham is dead for the lack of the better term. He is no threat."

"Still." She wanted to go to him, to comfort him, but even her sensibilities prevented her from stepping over the threshold and into his private domain. "It brings up bad memories. Even I shudder to think about the part I played as well."

"You didn't know," Darcy insisted, adamant. "I kept silent due to my pride. If you are concerned about Georgiana, then I appreciate the sentiment. She is strong, a survivor. Besides, I had neglected to bring her to Rosings sooner. With all the tensions swarming with the unmentionables and my convalescence, I had not written to her as I ought. She will be more upset with _that_ than I with a wife."

His humor was restored but it did not stop Elizabeth from berating herself. There was so much she wished she could redo over again, yet it was not to be. And as Darcy stated, Wickham was dead. Gone forever. Never again would their families be tarnished or worry about him lurking in the shadows. It was a reassuring thought and Elizabeth found it within herself to smile softly.

"How long will you be gone?" Elizabeth asked.

"It will be a three days' journey to and back," he explained. "I will write ahead in the hope it will arrive before I so Georgiana will have ample time to ready herself."

"A week…" she echoed.

Darcy nodded. "I will return."

"It's not that but you have arrived here a couple days ago and now you are leaving. These days have been surreal have they not?" It was odd considering how just a few days prior Elizabeth hoped she had not lost Darcy's good graces. She had been worried he would die from his injuries, and then it became his good opinion when news of his recovery was shared. Now, they were engaged to be married and even this trip prolonged the opportunity to further their acquaintance especially when it was apparent how promising their relationship could be. It was selfish of her wanting to keep him closer for a bit, but she knew how important it would be to have all her sisters present for her wedding. Regardless of how ridiculous and silly they can be, Elizabeth cherished each and every one, and she was looking forward in meeting her soon-to-be new sister.

"Indeed they have," Darcy spoke, staring intently at her visage. "Even now I expect to wake in my bed in the hospital to find out it was all a dream."

"This is not a dream Darcy," Elizabeth teased.

"Fitzwilliam," he blurted suddenly, his umber eyes turning wide and boyish, a sheepishness overtaking his features from the outburst. "That is… my name. Fitzwilliam. I would like you to call me—"

"Fitzwilliam," she tried, her tongue rolling with each syllable. It did not have the same ring to it as Darcy did, but watching the way his entire face lit up at the sound was worth saying. "Fitzwilliam," Elizabeth repeated but it was more of a sensual purr as she boldly took a step forward into the room.

There was something liberating in the way she could change his physiognomy so swiftly. It was heady the kind of power she wielded with Master Liu's lessons on the art of seduction starting to come together. Before, Elizabeth did not care nor wished to know how to be alluring to the opposite sex. When one was engaged in battle with a zombie one does not stop to be the temptress. Now things had changed. She was beginning to understand the feelings Darcy inspired in her and her desire to have him continuing to look at her as he was right now.

From the darkening of his pupils to the subtle flare of his Grecian nose to the rigid set of his pressed lips it was no wonder Elizabeth once thought him judgmental on her person. The intense and probing stare she had associated with his abhorrence was now clear as glass it was his ardor that was being restrained on his countenance. Indeed, his need for her was so great that he bore a striking resemblance of being in pain, and while Elizabeth was conscious of his recovery, she saw within him the struggle to maintain his demeanor and it was not due to his injuries. The punctuated, staccato rise of his chest betrayed the emotions coursing through him as she was in his room and the slight tremor of his form was the other indicator that Darcy was barely hanging on to his sanity. She could see it in his eyes that he wanted to tell her that this was highly improper and that she should leave now, but the words were lodged in his throat as he was torn in wanting her to leave and staying to see what she would do next.

Of course, she couldn't resist some harmless teasing.

"Can it be that you have nothing to say sir? I have told you before that the warrior may wish to do as he pleases. This warrior will not hesitate to put him in his place if the cause is unwarranted." Then for dramatic affect: "Fitzwilliam."

She did not cry out in surprise or gasp when he reached for her, taking her strongly in his grasp. Elizabeth went along quite willingly and with the secret hope he would lose restraint as he had in the garden. Her fiancé did not disappoint as he crushed her against his trembling body, his lips immediately covering hers following a sonorous growl after her deliberate provocative pronunciation of his Christian name. It was the warrior that was once more in control and doing as he pleased with his tongue and devouring jaw. And as she unequivocally promised, she rose to the challenge to see how much would be too far before sense and logic returned.

Recalling how greatly affected Darcy was, Elizabeth used her nails to graze his skin. The man keened in a tone that was physically felt as he continued his exploration of her honey sweet mouth with his thumbs coming round to brush the swell of her breasts. It was fleeting yet the brief touch proved to be jolting as she stiffened in astonishment. However, Elizabeth did not want Darcy stopping his ministrations to think he overstepped himself. Pressing her hand over his, Elizabeth nodded in her kiss her permission for him to continue. He did not cease as he massaged her through her dress, releasing her mouth as they drew in sharp breaths; panting harshly, Elizabeth squeezed her eyes tight as his coarse fingers undid the first button, the material parting like the sea, and she was quickly reminded of their spar in Hunsford when he unwittingly snapped her button off with the poker. This time the button was not broken but Darcy did not waste a moment as his warm hand slipped in, his palm cupping her through her corset. Elizabeth's breaths became shorter and faster, her breasts moving rapidly she half-feared her corset would no longer support her, but the reward of his touch and then his mouth dropping open kisses as he suckled and bit the top of her mounds was wildly overwhelming that it was a small wonder her legs were able to stand up during this amorous declaration.

She became instantly aware that another part of her was filling with longing, an acute throbbing that demanded relief of some kind. It was curious as Elizabeth never experienced or quite understood this portion of her lessons. Master Liu was not as explicit as he could have been but he did warn the girls that any good seducer must play the part in making it _seem_ the seducer wants the seduced by ensuring all the proper signs were present. "Do not fill your heads with romantic fancy," he advised. "It is easy for the body to confuse love and lust from discipline and control. You must always keep control lest you forget your mission." Regardless of her unyielding control, Elizabeth was finding it difficult to keep with Darcy being the object of her love and desire. She moaned softly as it spurred him on to continue his pursuit.

There was an inferno building in her and her whole body was feverishly reaching for completion. Did he burn as she did?

She laid her hand on his chest as she began to drag it downward, and with Darcy holding her flush against him, Elizabeth felt him hardening, which only enflamed her current passion. Master Liu did share what men have and the workings so the girls could not misinterpret the feeling. This was part of the lesson that Elizabeth found to be distasteful but her younger sisters were wide-eyed with wonder and Jane modestly raised her eyes to the sky. However, with Darcy, Elizabeth was discovering instantaneously that she did not mind feeling him near her thigh and she was certain he would feel as hot as she did. Her fingers barely skimmed his trousers when Darcy grabbed her wrist and had to physically remove himself from his bountiful feast.

His eyes were closed, his jawline quivering, but Elizabeth found herself pouting that he was preventing her in her task of exploration. Indeed, it was a Herculean effort for him yet the necessity to prevent their zealousness from coming to fruition was that he wanted to do the right by her. Of course, it was apparent that this was not going to be an easy trial and Darcy's cognizance of his journey to Pemberley would, in fact, ease the burden and reduce the risk of further temptation.

Pressing his forehead to her perspired one, Darcy prayed for the raging beast to subside as he reined in his ardor so he could gaze into her eyes properly. When he did, he impishly said:

"I believe we are at an impasse. It seems as warriors we _both_ can raise to the occasion."

Elizabeth chuckled, the laughter serving as a substitute, as she was reluctant to leave this interlude unfinished. Yet he had a sister he had to get to and she did not wish to delay him any longer than necessary.

"Be as true as it is, you do have your sister to collect and I do not wish to detain you any longer."

She took a couple steps back and fixed her dress. Elizabeth wiped her hands on the folds of her skirts before she lifted her gaze to him. "I pray for a speedy journey."

"As do I," he said without argument. "When I return we should marry quickly as possible. I do not think I can continue to control myself much longer."

"I know." Elizabeth felt the same way and after these samples of what marriage awaited them… it was wise to have the wedding as soon as possible. "I will do what I can to convince Mama."

He smiled at her and kissed her forehead. "Go. I will be gone within the hour. I will come back."

Darcy did not say anything else as Elizabeth turned on her heels to walk out of the room. When he was certain she was gone, Darcy turned to his chamber pot with some unfinished business that needed to be dealt with _tout de suite_.

Meanwhile, Elizabeth was soon among the other ladies with her dress and hair back to the way it was before Darcy's attention. He dispatched a note to his aunt to tell her he had left and would ride at God's speed to fetch his sister. The news made her ladyship's lips switch with affection for she had not seen Georgiana in sometime.

"With a double wedding to plan, we must start our preparations _now_ ," Mrs. Bennet told her eldest daughters. "I do not wish to wait any longer for a zombie to ruin your happiest day."

xxXXxx

Darcy's absence was felt acutely by his fiancée, yet the Bride of Death discovered rather quickly the limits to her patience and discipline.

It was not due to the lack of trying but Mrs. Bennet as the mother of the brides was much more _onerous_ than Mrs. Bennet the mother. The ridiculous frivolity appeared to have surpassed itself and Elizabeth was quite resentful towards her dear Papa for taking shelter in the library, locking himself withal, to avoid being part of the wedding preparations. Even her younger sisters somehow managed to make themselves scarce so not to be recruited in Mrs. Bennet's fanciful scheme. As for the other houseguests, Mr. Collins had his wedding speech to prepare, and Mrs. Bennet was all too _disheartened_ to let him go, however, she understood he needed all the time in the world to do what he must.

Indeed, it was quite a tragedy.

Caroline Bingley was in the midst of a rather unfortunate malady that involved a migraine most profound that it would spark whenever she came near Mrs. Bennet. ("Poor thing," Mrs. Bennet said to Jane. "It grieves me how one so youthful can have such awful pains. And I heard she is a decent warrior. Tsk. Well, Janie, she will be your sister so you must take careful attention to ensure she finds herself a husband who won't mind her chronic headaches." At this, Jane would dutifully reply: "Yes Mama." Even when Mrs. Bennet commented to Mr. Bingley about his sister's condition, he was befuddled in his answer but assured his future mother-in-law that Caroline will have the proper care.)

Anne de Bourgh and her companion made their excuses, or, rather it was Mrs. Jenkinson who did since her charge would be unable to provide the help that Mrs. Bennet would require in the planning. Likewise, Mrs. Bennet did not wish for Miss de Bourgh to overexert herself (frankly, she admitted this to no one but herself, she would be pleased not to spend the hours being stared at even if Miss de Bourgh's gaze was unfocused; it was still disconcerting). Lady Catherine offered her assistance with the members of her Black Guard delivering written instructions to whomever services was rendered to expedite Mrs. Bennet's requests.

This left Elizabeth, Jane, and Mr. Bingley at their mother's mercy. As it was _their_ weddings, Elizabeth and Jane made a blood vow to never leave the other alone with their mother. Mr. Bingley did his best, and while he was torn not to leave his beloved's side, he only managed to reach the afternoon the first day before he, too, also disappeared in the confines of the locked library to become better acquainted with his father-in-law.

Now, Elizabeth would have forgiven her father's recalcitrant attitude (his vanishing acts were the norm when her mother was having one of her fits), but for Mr. Bingley to abandon Jane and hide like Papa… Perhaps if Mr. Darcy did not have to leave then he would have soldiered on and brave the frantic Mrs. Bennet and her outlandish and outrageous demands and ideas. Yes, if Mr. Darcy was here to endure the insanity, then Mr. Bingley would have stayed. Since Mr. Bingley did _not_ Elizabeth could only see the red rage that he was going to be Papa to wife Jane and that was not to be borne! He should be supporting his intended instead of letting her fend for herself! It had not occurred to her to ask if Jane was bothered by this knowledge, but Elizabeth decided to take matters into her own hands.

Armed with her Chinese butterfly knives, Elizabeth marched to the library and pounded the door with her fist.

"Mr. Bingley!" she roared, a ferocious lioness determined to drag the weakling of the litter to face the hunt. "Come out this instant! Jane needs you!"

She could hear movement behind the door and then Mr. Bingley's voice worryingly replying: "Is she unwell?"

" _She_ ," Elizabeth emphasized, "is planning her wedding to _you_! And you're in there without any aid or opinion to give her."

"I trust in her opinions Miss Elizabeth. Have no doubt that however the wedding turns out I will be most happy—"

He was interrupted with the deep mutterings of her Papa and Elizabeth could have sworn he had said _"Pray, do not fall for her tricks."_ This renewed her temper as Elizabeth raised her fist to the door again. "Papa!" she shouted. "I know you can hear me! As _father_ of the _brides_ your input would be judicious too!"

Silence fell until a cough was plainly heard.

"I would Lizzy, I would. But I fear my old lungs are not up to the task. I am better off in here so I am not in the way."

Feeling betrayed, Elizabeth could not allow this insult to go on. She seized her knives and was going to hold both of them at their throats with the threat of death if they did not join her in this foolhardy chore. As she reared back to kick the door open, Elizabeth was stopped as Jane called her name.

"Lizzy what on earth—?" Jane watched with a horrified expression when she realized what her sister intended to do and immediately placed herself between Elizabeth and the door. "Lizzy, you leave them be."

"Jane! They're hiding! Your Mr. Bingley is hiding rather than staying at your side while Mama plots away!"

Jane lifted her thin, blonde brow. "Plots? Lizzy this is _our_ wedding. If anything, Mr. Bingley and Papa would be lost with the flowers and the dresses and even the wedding breakfast. I do not mind that he is not with me. Neither should you. Besides, you and I made a pact, remember?"

"Yes but…" Elizabeth glared at the closed door. "He should be there."

"Perhaps but that is not for you to decide. If Mr. Darcy was here and wanted to help, then that would be his choice, but if he didn't… Lizzy you will need to respect his wishes. Now, put those knives away and let's go back. We are needed for the dress fitting if we are to have our dresses in time."

Elizabeth gritted her teeth but she knew Jane was right. Regardless what Mr. Bingley's decision was her forcing him to suffer the same torture as they may not be the best course of action. Yet, she was certain it would make her feel much better if she had her sister's fiancé's throat beneath her blade.

That was only the second day of Darcy's absence.

Eventually, the preparations were coming together and the eldest Bennets could almost sigh in relief. Indeed, their contributions to the wedding planning were little; if not, almost entirely missing as Mrs. Bennet seized control over every aspect. The only consolation was that they were able to have the choice in the style of their wedding dresses. It was a small victory if one counted it as such, and while Elizabeth would have been happy to be married in one of her best gowns, she had to admit she was looking forward in seeing Darcy's expression when he sees her in the church. Not that the experience was pleasant (it was agonizing when trying to reason with Mrs. Bennet), Elizabeth did manage a few breaks with her walking tour of Rosings and her training exercises, including one of her favorite games of "Kiss Me Deer." Only then could the she-warrior work out her frustrations and stress.

At long last Darcy returned with his sister.

This was the long-awaiting moment Elizabeth had since he left for Pemberley and she only had the memories of their impassioned encounters to keep her company. Between her murderous inclinations for certain individuals and Mrs. Bennet's overzealous instructions, Elizabeth had forgotten her nervousness in meeting Georgiana Darcy. It was not until the Darcys were announced that Elizabeth remembered herself.

First, it was true in the idea that absence makes the heart grow fonder. Seeing Darcy—nay, Fitzwilliam—had Elizabeth's heart racing with giddiness as she took in his countenance and straight posture. His injuries seemed to have mended as well as they could despite the toll the journey must have had on his person. Not that he was the sort of man who would allow such signs to be present. His stance was much better than when he appeared in Rosings so soon after he was released from the hospital. He did not seem to favor any part of him so it was possible that he could be completely healed.

 _I supposed the trip to the countryside of Derbyshire was exactly in order_ , she mused as her lips curved into a smile. She continued to smile as Miss Darcy shyly stepped beside her brother. In a flash, Elizabeth's preconceived notions vanished.

Georgiana Darcy was indeed handsome and shared the same dark chestnut hair and brown eyes as her brother; her height was not the same as Elizabeth's as Darcy once proclaimed, but she was taller than Elizabeth though not as tall as her brother, her head reaching his chin. Her face was soft, warm, and timid not at all proud as previous reports had said. Regardless of her head being held high it was plainly evident to Elizabeth that Miss Darcy did so out of a sense of duty or to make her brother happy, but the rest of her countenance revealed anxiousness even with her fingers laced together in front of her.

All in all, Elizabeth could not find anything at all intimidating within Georgiana Darcy. Not to say the poor girl was completely meek. She was certain that Darcy's praises were not without some merit. The warrior in her continued to assess Miss Darcy and she had to concede that Miss Darcy's long legs and frame could work well in battle depending on her agility and flexibility. Moreover, she detected Miss Darcy's arms were indeed toned and seemed somewhat big for a girl her age, but if she favored the battle axe as a choice of weapon… she would have to develop her upper body strength to be able to wield it effortlessly. Elizabeth concluded that Miss Darcy was a warrior that continued with her training and building her strength and was unlikely to neglect those habits in the near future. Then again, her brother was a Colonel and he was known for his zombie slaughtering. As his sister, there had to be some level of expectation for her to be as good as he.

The question remained: How good?

During her inspection, Elizabeth's lips quirked as Miss Darcy was apparently doing the same to her. Before the proper introductions were made, Miss Darcy had sought Elizabeth out as the right candidate as her brother's fiancée. The girl might be shy but the warrior inside her was not. She boldly stared at Elizabeth, scrutinizing her carefully, undoubtedly determining if she was equally skilled as her brother. Darcy was not a fool and his choice in a wife would clearly mean she had to earn his respect and admiration. What made Elizabeth Bennet the special one was the question in her expression.

The answer to their questions could be solved in the only matter possible.

Darcy did not hide his amusement when his sister posed this query to Elizabeth: "Do you like to spar Miss Elizabeth?"

"I do. I find it helps keep the body limber and alert to any zombie attack. Do you enjoy sparring yourself?"

Miss Darcy's eyes sparkled. "Yes. Of course, I do not always have the opportunity. My brother is often away from home and there are not many in Derbyshire or around Pemberley that could serve a match."

"We should rectify that here and now if you wish."

Georgiana did not have to reply to make her assent known.

Lady Catherine discreetly motioned her Black Guard to move any offending or valuable items and furniture away as the others stood back to give the ladies the space needed. The only person in a titter over the circumstance was Mrs. Bennet and the thought of a bride having any type of bruises or markings on her face on her wedding day was a travesty and so she was whisked away by a young man of the Black Guard to lose her nerves in a room where she would not be a distraction. Mr. Collins was not keen on violence and he drummed his fingers together in front of his lips, pressing them firmly, as he stole a quick glance in Lady Catherine's direction. Despite his desire to leave, he would obey whatever his esteemed patroness would decree. Fortunately, she dismissed him so he could continue his cleric duties for the wedding preparation. For Mrs. Bennet's sake, of course.

The rest of the room gave the two ladies the space they needed. Darcy watched his sister and his betrothal bow in respect as a half-grin tugged at the corners of his mouth. He knew from the moment that he and Georgiana arrived that the women in his life would want to test their abilities out and he could not have been anymore prouder as Georgiana had been the one to initiate. Already he could tell Elizabeth's bewitching influence was working its magic on his self-effacing sister.

The spar was to be fisticuffs as the two took their battle stances. They locked gazes with each other until Georgiana was the first to make the move. Elizabeth twisted and darted to the side as her leg came up to meet her opponent's abdomen, but to her astonishment, Georgiana Darcy caught her foot. The younger Darcy grinned briefly as she pushed Elizabeth's leg back, causing the warrior to lose her balance. However, Elizabeth recovered herself in time as Georgiana's next attack was blocked. Despite their height differences, Elizabeth was impressed to see how graceful Miss Darcy moved and they continued their dance of battling wits from palm-heel strikes to roundhouse kicks. The hope was the one would eventually have the advantage over the other to end this in a choking hold as neither woman was willing to step down.

Regardless of Miss Darcy's shyness, she was able to overcome the difficulty with the ease of doing something familiar, something she was confident in. Elizabeth could not help but admire her fortitude. Miss Darcy's training was not a waste and as much as Elizabeth was loathed to admit… Miss Darcy certainly kept her on her toes. Even with four sisters to train alongside and spar, Elizabeth realized her folly in always picking fights with them. She could read her sisters next moves but Miss Darcy was a stranger and there were moments when Elizabeth underestimated her when she was given a swift jab in the stomach and an elbow to the face. The hit did not injure her but rather stunned Elizabeth; although, Elizabeth was able to manage a few good and direct punches that had Miss Darcy catching her breath.

Around and around they went—neither willing to surrender—but it was plain to the audience that the ladies met their matches. Perhaps if actual weapons were used the fight would end much sooner. Either way, the battle was going far too long and at last Lady Catherine called it a draw.

Elizabeth did not wish to say it aloud but she was grateful Lady Catherine intervened. Georgiana Darcy was a force to be reckoned and she was looking forward to the days where she will train with her new sister.

"My brother was not exaggerating when he said you were an excellent fighter. I was not sure if I was able to keep up with you," Georgiana admitted as she offered her hand in friendship.

Elizabeth smiled as she shook her hand. "Nor I with you. You're truly accomplished Miss Darcy. I do not make such compliments lightly."

Georgiana tipped her chin to hide her blush. "I do my best. My brother says I am proficient but I fear his kindness and love does blind him with prejudice."

"Rest assured, Miss Darcy, I have only met you and I will say your skills are quite superb."

That put a smile on Georgiana's face as she quickly caught her brother's glance and he nodded approvingly.

Not to be left out, Caroline Bingley marched over to Elizabeth and Georgiana, purposely inserting herself in the middle so she could have Miss Darcy's attention.

"Georgiana you were brilliant! I cannot believe how much you've grown since the last I saw you! And your—" Caroline continued on in Japanese, which further caused Georgiana to blush with such high-praises and accolades that were no doubt coming from Miss Bingley.

Elizabeth bristled, inwardly seething at what Caroline was doing. Instead of admitting defeat for Darcy's affection, she was trying to win Darcy over through his sister and at the same time show how inferior Elizabeth's training was since she could not understand a word. The intended insult was enough for Elizabeth to reach for her red hair and ripped out her scalp.

As her fingers itched to do just that… Elizabeth noticed something else. Georgiana. While Caroline continued on with her prattling, Georgiana had a strained but polite expression on her face but it was noticeable to Elizabeth that she wanted to leave the conversation and have the commendations end. Miss Darcy was not fond of the too overly indulged comments but did not possess the assertiveness to put Miss Bingley in her place.

Elizabeth met Darcy's eye and he, too, did not look pleased with Caroline and it was most likely that he recognized his sister's distress. Yet, he did not approach the women and tilted his head just slightly that Elizabeth understood the silent message.

"Miss Darcy," Elizabeth interrupted, placing her hand on her arm. "You look flush. Perhaps you should sit and rest a bit?"

"Oh! Georgiana, I am so sorry! How callous of me!" Caroline exclaimed. "Allow me to help…"

Georgiana leaned more towards Elizabeth as she fluttered her hand in front of her. "I do feel a little fatigue. The ride from Pemberley was exhausting. If you don't mind Miss Elizabeth?"

"Of course," Elizabeth answered as she slid her arm around the young girl's waist to assist her to the nearest chair. The Black Guards were much obliging in their tasks and wasted no time in returning everything in its proper place.

While Elizabeth went on with her ministrations to make sure Miss Darcy was comfortable, Caroline seemed at a loss on what to do. Since the others had left to make use of their time in other pursuits, Caroline came to her senses in that there was nothing she could do as an interloper and took her leave as well.

With Caroline gone, Georgiana ceased her act and turned grateful eyes on Elizabeth.

"Thank you Miss Elizabeth. I did not want to be rude but I fear Caroline is far too kind and generous. Sometimes I wonder if she really means what she says to me and not for someone else."

Indeed, Georgiana Darcy was intuitive for one her age. Then again, with an older brother who was eligible and rich, one must be.

Elizabeth chuckled. "I believe that forward frankness is the only thing to work with Miss Bingley. You should not worry if the truth upsets her."

Before Georgiana could reply, Darcy was standing beside them and he could not help the boyish grin from blooming.

"Well done Georgiana. For a moment, I thought you bested Miss Elizabeth."

"She almost did," Elizabeth conceded. "A fine warrior she is too. Now, now. Do not shake your head Miss Darcy! I told you before I do not give a compliment lightly and I say what I mean as truth."

"Indeed. Her good opinion is rarely bestowed and all the worth earning," Darcy rejoined with a subtle wink at his love.

"Well, as long as I have all the facts in front of me," Elizabeth returned.

Georgiana watched her brother and his fiancée go back and forth with interest. Her brother had a lot to tell her about this woman, Elizabeth Bennet, and she was intrigued with everything about her. She was a bit astonished when her brother admitted he had not given the best impression, which Georgiana could hardly believe. Fitzwilliam Darcy was truly the best and kindest man in the world. Perhaps she was also prejudice in that belief but there was no doubt in her mind that her brother deeply loved this woman. She could not remember him smiling as much as he had, even when he spoke about Miss Elizabeth. Also, not that Georgiana would say it aloud in company, she was rather grateful that it was Elizabeth that won her brother's affections and not Caroline Bingley. While Charles was her brother's dearest and oldest friend, Georgiana could not say the same in regards to Charles' sister.

 _Furthermore, Miss Elizabeth surpassed any Kyoto trained fighter. My brother would be wise to find a suitable wife who can match his skills and she certainly qualifies._ Georgiana pursed her lips together as she continued to examine her brother and Miss Elizabeth with growing amusement. It was clear to the young girl that the two lovers wished to be alone, but neither one was willing to excuse themselves in front of her. Feigning a yawn, Georgiana caught their attention as she started to rise.

"I suppose resting after a long journey is in order after all." Turning to look at Elizabeth, Georgiana dipped into a curtsey. "It was an honor to finally meet you Miss Elizabeth. I am so very happy we will be sisters and I hope we can spar more often."

"That would be lovely," Elizabeth replied, sinking into her own curtsey. "It was an honor to meet you too Miss Darcy."

"Brother." Georgiana acknowledged bowing her head before she retired to her room. Although, she did not go too far as she quickly glanced back to catch a glimpse as the couple embraced. Her brother's happiness spoke such volumes that Georgiana decided she would pay him back later for not telling her sooner that he was going to be married.

xxXXxx

There was darkness and for the longest time… he thought he had died for good this time. However, the prickling sense of awareness began to enter his mind and he forced his eyes to open to the burning sensation of the sunlight. Groaning, he went to shield his gaze only to come to the horrifying reminder that the appendage was no longer attached. Rather the limb was lying haphazardly in the grass and blood where the flesh had rapidly decomposed.

All at once the memories of Darcy came raging as he roared his fury and denial of revenge.

 _He_ had the man of his contempt in his grasp, squeezing and choking the life out of him, and Darcy would have died in his hand had he not been thwarted.

 _Elizabeth Bennet…_

Wickham howled once more. She made an enemy the moment she rejected him and even now knowing she was on Darcy's side only made the bitter hatred twist and churn in his no longer beating heart. Darcy deserved to die for what he did to him and so did Miss Elizabeth Bennet.

Wandering, aimless patches of zombies roamed the field as Wickham shouted at them. A couple swiveled their rotting corpse's heads but none seemed to pay him any heed. _He_ was their _leader_ , their _anti-Christ_. It was _his_ duty to unite them and feast upon the living in the glorious Apocalypse.

"You forsake me!" Wickham screamed. " _I_ am your Chosen One! _I_ gave everything to you! _I_ —"

He stopped as four shadows emerged, blotting the bright light, as they silently glided in unison and paused in front of the half-undead, half-living soldier. Their black eyes so empty and so devoid of any expression and yet the burning pits of Hell could be seen in them as they gazed down at the disgraceful Wickham.

"Please," he beseeched them. "I can do this. I was so close. Allow me to fight for you and I swear the Final Judgment will come."

Silence was all could be heard, however, it was a silence that decided to give the soldier one last chance.

"Thank you," Wickham sighed closing his eyes in thanks he was given another opportunity to prove himself. After all, if he did not succeed then… The consequences be damned. _He_ will _not_ fail. "I do have one last request to ask. My arm…" He lifted what little remained of his right arm. "I cannot fight if I am not whole."

One shadow stepped forward with its long slender arm reaching as if to seize his throat. Wickham shied to avoid the dark fingers but they ceased moving as an object fell before him.

It was an iron wrought candlestick with six spikes encircling the base. He recognized it from St. Lazarus and the irony was not lost on him. Once more he will rise again and fight Darcy, but this time the outcome will be much different.

 _Let's see if good old Fitz can survive having his heart skewered_ , Wickham thought with a smug grin as he picked up the offering with his left hand.

TBC…


	5. Chapter 5

A/N: Hi everyone! Sadly, we are now on the final chapter. Thank you to everyone for taking the time to read this story and for leaving a comment. It always makes my day to see how you guys are enjoying this story. As of right now, I don't have any plans for more _Pride and Prejudice and Zombies_ stories. More than likely, this will be the last one. So again, thank you so much to those who have read or will be reading this story!

 **Chapter 5**

Stalking one's prey is a work of art. It requires not only stealth but patience and agility not to alert that the target is about to meet its end. Furthermore, study and observation allows the hunter to determine the prey's weakness and the best time to strike when it least expects it.

As it were, the clock began to chime at the hour, indicating it was eight o'clock in the evening and dinner was finished. The quarry was nice and plump from a richly prepared meal. There was no mistaken the lazy, canary grin in the midst of the fond memory of roasted pheasant, boiled potatoes, buttery flaked biscuits, and semi-sweet red wine. No doubt the creature was contemplating if it would be considered rude or piggish if one was to sample another helping of the meringue or sugar cake. Either way, the slow-witted prey had no notion of what was coming or how the feast managed to lull the victim into idleness.

Suppressing a yawn was indeed fruitless but that did not deter the rules of society that dictated that all guests should go to the parlor room for tea and coffee and other light forms of entertainment so the meal could be digested. However, a particular urgent duty became another matter, and with the swishing skirts as the only whispering sounds for leaving, the prey was on the move.

It was quite simple really to make one noiselessly disappear. Blending in the shadows was a source of comfort and the smooth tiles of the floor all too easy to glide as the padded slippers left not a peep as the predator moved with purpose. The motive was to pounce at the most vulnerable time where the target could not escape or cry for help. Despite the head start, the quarry could be heard stomping away and a sharp whimper biting at the lips as the urgent demand became much more pressing.

The pace quickened. The knives extracted. Then came the moment when the hunter was upon it.

Elizabeth released a low, menacing growl as her knives whistled against the other, capturing Caroline Bingley on either side, the blades nearly missing the throat. Pinned helplessly against the wall and not a weapon in hand, Caroline only had her countenance to fight back but even the knowledge that she had been caught unawares and at the mercy of the she-warrior had her demeanor losing composure and her bladder.

Elizabeth could not help arching her brow but she could not miss the opportunity. "It appears you have ruined your dress Miss Bingley," she said sweetly. "Although, if your training was anything like mine, then you should have known to always be on your guard for the unexpected. And to monitor your wine intake."

Caroline's features reddened and her eyes narrowed into slits as her nostrils flared. "How dare you! The Japanese are far—"

Elizabeth added a slight pressure as the ridge of the knife settled under Caroline's chin. The preening peacock gulped as the coolness instantly sobered whatever foul insults she was about to say.

"Now," Elizabeth went on. "I will make this quite simple for you to follow. I do not want you to continue in making Miss Darcy uncomfortable. Your overinflated compliments do not sit well with the poor girl and you are not fooling anyone in thinking you really mean them with sincerity. Whatever you are hoping to gain… you can be sure that it is over. Mr. Darcy is _my_ fiancé and will become _my_ husband. You lost Miss Bingley. Admit defeat or I will be certain I will make the rest of your wretched and miserable life a living Hell. Is that understood?"

To drive her point home, Elizabeth up the ante with removing one of her knives from Caroline's throat and resting it upon her belly.

"It will not take any effort for me to slide this into your flesh," Elizabeth threatened. "You know I am capable of doing it. Leave Mr. Darcy and his sister alone. And if you _ever_ decided to be cruel to my sister Jane or anyone in my family, then I will be there to put you in your place with the zombies."

Elizabeth released her as Caroline's knees gave out and collapsed on the floor.

"Some friendly advice: Do change your dress if you intend to join the company," Elizabeth said, scrunching her nose. "And make sure you are watching your back."

Turning on her heels, Elizabeth retreated in the same fashion she had before she cornered Caroline—practically dissipating in the darkness. Miss Bingley's bottom lip jutted out and quivered for she had been truly bested by the country chit and there was no way she could keep her shame a secret from her maid. Or the rest of the servants as they were summoned to dispatch and sterilize the floor outside Caroline's room.

xxXXxx

"Very nice form. Now. I want you to charge me—go!"

Georgiana rushed Elizabeth in a series of punches and kicks with the latter deflecting each with a twist, spin, and duck. It was the sort of distraction that was needed after a tedious final fitting and other attention details that did not interested Elizabeth in one wink. She was all too grateful that Miss Darcy suggested a reprieve in the dojo that both girls, including Elizabeth's sisters, decided to partake. Mrs. Bennet was against it but she was outnumbered as all the ladies stood up and left at once. No amount of pleading, screaming, and even fainting would entice her daughters to return. For all Elizabeth knew, her mother could be continuing her theatrics with Mr. Bennet or the staff. Mrs. Bennet would not dare to disturb Lady Catherine unless her mother lost all her senses. And since there was no blood-curdling scream to suggest Lady Catherine might have taken action… Mrs. Bennet was unmolested.

"Oomph!" Elizabeth grunted as Georgiana rammed her fist into her abdomen.

Miss Darcy stopped immediately, her countenance twisting with concern as she might have accidentally winded her future sister-in-law. It was too perfect of a setup that Georgiana had not anticipated Elizabeth's next move, which was seizing her wrist and flipping her onto her back.

The younger girl stared at the stars in the ceiling and briefly wondered how she ended up in this position in the first place. Eventually, she realized Elizabeth's duplicitous manner when she heard the peals of laughter from the other girls. Yet it was a cough from a masculine sort that had the laughter cease almost at once as Elizabeth's hand appeared before her to assist her to her feet. Once upright, Georgiana noticed that the cough came from none other than her dear brother who did a horrible job in covering his amusement while Mr. Bingley stood beside him with laughter in his eyes. However, the latter's countenance changed as he settled his gaze on his beautiful fiancée and only adoration was found shining in them.

Jane immediately went to her beloved's side, squeezing his hand affectionately, as they began to converse in whispers. Mary also joined them, assuming the conversation was about the spar that took place recently, commenting on the strengths and weaknesses of both fighters. Jane and Bingley took the usurper's intrusion with stride and politely listened to Mary lest not to embarrass her.

Lydia and Kitty retreated to another corner of the dojo where they decided to partake in their own spar, but as no one seemed to notice or pay attention to them, the two thought they were better off trailing the grounds and placing bets if they could get one of the Black Guards to move from his position.

Meanwhile, Georgiana and Elizabeth concluded their spar with a gentile and friendly bow.

"I have so much to learn, I daresay, and I cannot wait for when we return to Pemberley," Georgiana confided to her future sister. "I truly thought I injured you!"

Elizabeth was unable to prevent the chuckle from escaping. "It was all a ruse. One that I learned from a great Master."

"Indeed. I, myself, almost fell for it," Darcy admitted, joining the women. "With Mr. Bennet I mean."

Georgiana looked upon her brother with admiration, although there was a hint of sheepishness in her features for not catching the subterfuge at once. No doubt she was doing her best to live up to his standards and Elizabeth's heart went to the poor girl. Of course, not that Georgiana Darcy needed the sympathy. The girl was an admirable fighter and could hold her own, but she could use lessons on the art of trickery. Then again, the idea of another person getting the best of Mr. Fitzwilliam Darcy practically felt inconceivable!

"My father is a master manipulator in his age now," Elizabeth shared. "In his younger years, he would have been unable to get away with such tricks. As women, though, we are not bound by the same attitudes."

"I think I know enough about your skills Miss Elizabeth not to fall for any deception," Darcy mused, the corners of his mouth twitching.

Elizabeth dared to roll her eyes. "Sir, I do not believe you can comprehend my way of the deadly arts."

"Is that a challenge?" he posed, raising his brow as his bride-to-be met his with an arched look.

"You know not what you're asking Mr. Darcy," Jane interjected. "Lizzy has run in circles around me. Even when I think I have an advantage over her… she manages to surprise me."

"Surely not." Bingley shook his head. "I cannot see that."

Jane blushed. "I confess Lizzy is the superior fighter."

"Indeed. Lizzy outshines all of us," Mary conceded although it was painful for her to do so. "Some of us have tried to outwit her but not for the lack of trying."

Georgiana turned her esteem towards Elizabeth, wondering what else her future sister was capable of doing. "I hope you teach me more!"

"If you like," Elizabeth told her warmly. "Although, you should not discredit your own skills in fighting."

Georgiana blushed from the compliment, her fingers fidgeting. "Thank you."

"You do have a good form when it comes to your fists," Mary added, nodding to Miss Darcy. "However, your kicks are sorely lacking in the same finesse. May I make a suggestion?"

Georgiana was intrigued. "Yes by all means."

"It's all about knowing the angles and the speed you need to take to incapacitate your opponent. In other words, you need to understand the science. I found this book that does a remarkable task in explaining—"

As Mary began to walk away from the group, Georgiana followed as she listened with rapt attention. The two remaining Bennet sisters could only shake their heads, stifling their grins, but also relieved that Mary found someone new to espouse in her ramblings. Furthermore, it did leave the couples with the knowledge they were alone and no one else seemed to be around to act as chaperones.

"Would you care for a stroll milady?" Bingley asked, flashing a charming smile as he held out his arm to his lady love.

"Indeed I would." Jane happily accepted as they left the dojo.

"It seems we are alone," Darcy commented as Elizabeth hummed in agreement.

"Alas," she said. "It's a pity." Looking into his quizzical expression, she elaborated, "There will not be any witnesses present to your downfall."

"Ah. You sound quite certain that it will be I that will lose," Darcy teased. "You underestimate me madam."

"Care to put it to the test?" Elizabeth was already standing in the middle of the dojo as Darcy was in the process of removing his coat and cravat. She watched with appreciation as he released the buttons to his shirt collar to allow some breathing room as he took his place across from her.

Throughout their acquaintance, neither Elizabeth nor Darcy had the pleasure in engaging in an actual spar. The fight in Hunsford was one they rather not count despite the hurt and pain that went into it. Yet, even back then they could not deny that the fight also had another startling revelation.

As propriety dictated in the rules of combat, Elizabeth and Darcy saluted one another before they commenced in the battle poses, both silently scrutinizing the other as the best possible place to make the first strike.

No longer willing to wait in suspense, Elizabeth lunged with a knife hand, which she expected Darcy to block, and then launched into another hand strike with a leopard punch. The blow had minimal impact other than stunning him in the throat. Darcy regained his reflexes and made a counter strike with the eagle claw and deftly moved around her until he locked her arm behind her, momentarily making her defenseless. All the while he said this to her:

"I must admit that when I first saw you fighting at Meryton… I was impressed how you handled those blades."

Grunting, Elizabeth used her foot to step on his instep, freeing herself from his hold as she rolled away. Leaping on her feet, she spun into another assault of punches that he dodged with his arms.

"I wish I could say about you!" she exclaimed, ducking her head and rolling away from his haymaker punch. She laughed at the novice move since that punch can be easily seen a mile away. "I was of the mind on how singularly stuck up you were. ' _She is tolerable, but not handsome enough to tempt me_ ,'" she mimicked in a deep voice as he scurried away before she could jab him in the ribs.

Darcy winced from the memory. "You will never let me forget that, will you?"

"I think not," she decided. "Someone has to keep you humble."

At the statement, Darcy laughed as he grabbed her arm and swung her around with a quick chop to her shoulder blade. It felt more like a tap but enough to make Elizabeth think that he believed he could claim victory. But she was not through with him as she went for his throat again, and this time, she wedged her leg between his and pulled him under her. To her astonishment, he locked his other leg around her waist, holding her tight against him.

"I must be frank Elizabeth. The reason I spoke those words was that I was already ensnared with your bewitching dark eyes and I knew not what to make with these feelings. It was so sudden and powerful that I keenly felt that if I were to dance with you… I would make a fool of myself."

"You did dance with me at Netherfield. I do not recall you making a fool of yourself then." _Only my family_ , she thought.

"I was able to keep my emotions in check thanks to your cousin who kept staring at you the whole evening."

"Don't remind me," she moaned. "There was plenty of humiliation I could not stand."

They locked gazes as another sensation began to overtake them. Heat crept up upon their faces, a flushing in their cheeks and it had everything and nothing to do with the exertion already done in the spar.

"God on Heaven," Darcy groaned a deep-throated guttural noise that sent a flutter of vibrations through their bodies. Elizabeth found herself incapable of speaking other than a quick squeal as he moved so he had her pinned beneath him. Instinctively, her hold on him loosened to accommodate the changing positions, but her legs came back around to cradle him close. His eyes darkened as his nostrils flared when her tongue darted across her lips. It took all his willpower not to crush her mouth with his; however, Elizabeth was making it difficult for him to reign in his lust as she undulated her hips, purposefully arching her back as she exposed her neck, enticing him to taste and mark this she-warrior. Of course, he would gladly accept her marks as well as the pressure and heat of her nails felt through the material of his shirt.

"Elizabeth," he whispered helplessly as he lowered his head.

The resounding horrified gasp reverberated throughout the dojo and dousing the passionate interlude as the lovers turned their faces to glare at the invader who had the gift and talent of cooling any ardor that might be lingering.

"Mr. Darcy! Cousin Elizabeth!" Mr. Collins was flapping his hands so fast that if he could move them any faster he was liable to take flight with all the nervous energy that was radiating. "You're not hurt are you? Oh dear! That must have been a nasty tumble!"

The couple closed their eyes at the sheer stupidity and thick-headedness of Mr. Collins's words and had to question if slaughtering the man of the cloth would lead to the road of damnation. Yet, neither had time to ponder this idea as Mr. Collins was standing over them and trying to discern how he should aid the fallen warriors until he decided to reach for Mr. Darcy around his waist. Elizabeth felt her fiancé stiffen as she opened her eyes to see Mr. Collins hugging Mr. Darcy with his face pressed into his back. The scene would have inspired her good natured humor, although she could not tell if Mr. Collins had fainted or if he was too incredibly weak to try and lift her beloved.

At last, Darcy shifted and rose gingerly so Elizabeth could pull herself out. Mr. Collins did finally let go of his person as he attempted to unwrinkled his clergy jacket with the repetitious hand movements.

"Right. Well, it appears that you are uninjured. That is a relief of course. We cannot have the bride and bridegroom harmed in any way before the big day. It would surely break your poor dear mother's heart and Lady Catherine's as well."

"Thank you Mr. Collins," Elizabeth said in forced sincerity. "You are too kind."

Mr. Collins trilled at the compliment. "It was my pleasure Cousin. I could not in good conscience allow you and Mr. Darcy to remain helpless. Swift action was the only remedy."

"Indeed," she replied wryly.

"Perhaps this is the occasion you should heed my advice. Fighting—any kind of fighting—even if friendly—must be avoided lest misunderstandings should arise. A good wife must know when to hang her sword and be mindful…"

Elizabeth was already leaving for she knew she would have a hard time explaining why the minister would be unable to perform the ceremony if all his teeth fell out and his tongue removed.

"Erm, right," Mr. Collins said as Elizabeth was already out the door. "I am terribly sorry Mr. Darcy. My cousin is headstrong to a fault. Not that it is an awful trait, mind you, but her constant need for violence is disconcerting. Mrs. Bennet was quite worried as you can imagine on whether or not if any man would want to marry her. Alas, not even my influence could sway our dear Miss Elizabeth. Although, I do wonder if life as a parson's wife would have been right for her, maybe it would have tempered her inclinations. However our Lord works in mysterious ways and He has seen it fit that you and she should be wedded. In fact—"

"Mr. Collins," Darcy interrupted in an exasperated tone. "Is there an actually point in this conversation in regards to my fiancée?"

The tall, slim man who would often have a reply at hand found himself in a unique position that he had no words to say. Rather he would have found the right words to speak but Mr. Darcy took the brief moment of silence as a reply and excused himself, leaving Mr. Collins alone in the dojo. The minister sighed wistfully for he had not the opportunity to discuss the possibility of cold feet and the merits of bachelorhood if one wanted to wait a little longer for the right spouse to come along. He so hoped that his cousin would not give a bad impression on marriage.

xxXXxx

Presently, the only regret Darcy could have had was missing on the chance of eloping to Gretna Green. As fond as he was of Elizabeth's father and her sister Jane, the other Bennets was something he was still working on forming an opinion.

Mrs. Bennet managed to find inappropriate moments for her nerves to be addled and if she was not lamenting about her nerves, then she was complaining about the wedding preparations and how they were running out of time for it to come together. Regardless of her daughters' protestations, Mrs. Bennet was determined on the weddings to be a grand affair and was often changing her mind over the décor or the flowers or even the menu for the wedding breakfast. Ever the saint, Jane Bennet would assuage her mother and insist that all was well and whatever she chose for the menu would be delightful and the flowers will be beautiful. As sweet and charming and reassuring Jane could be in this time of unprovoked stress… Mrs. Bennet would find fault in something or other and it would have to start from scratch.

Even the wedding gowns could not escape Mrs. Bennet's scrutinizing eye, but her daughters reminded her that they could not afford to have new dresses made in time. Besides, Elizabeth and Jane were pleased with the seamstress's work and could not have asked for a better trousseau. Not that their comments meant anything. As far as Mrs. Bennet was concerned it would have been kindness in itself if Lady Catherine would have offered a finer quality of material or the use of her personal seamstress for this special occasion.

"It's not like her daughter is racing to the altar anytime soon," Mrs. Bennet once said to the ears of her daughters. However, Lady Catherine's kindness went so far in the services she was willing to provide and if Jane or Elizabeth pointed that out they would receive an earful about the rich and the lack of limitations that are at their disposal unlike a country gentleman's wife who wishes to give her daughters the moon on their happy day.

Of course, it did not stop Mrs. Bennet from soliciting Lady Catherine's nephew in the auspicious chance he could persuade his aunt in donating a little more to the affair. Her hints were not subtle and Darcy found himself in a compromising position on what to do next. Even Elizabeth could not help him as she shrugged helplessly in his direction.

Darcy's only wish was to be married to Elizabeth and _soon_. His teasing minx was making it difficult for him to keep his pledge of chastity. As much as he craved, desired, and lusted after his intended… Darcy also wanted to honor her and her virtue. Yet, everything about her was a provocation and she was purposefully keeping her distance just to watch him squirm and be discontent in the company of their friends and family. It did not help that he already had a sample of the promises of the marriage bed and he could not have been anymore happier to know that he and Elizabeth were true equals and partners. The only consolation he could find was the wedding was taking place in a few days' time. However, as short as it was, Darcy was finding it difficult to maintain his resolve and not drag Elizabeth off to the closest horse and ride off to Scotland.

Georgiana would disapprove of the notion since she was already bereft in that she was one of the last to learn about his engagement. She had already cornered him and spoke about her displeasure. It was a rare moment that his sister found the voice and strength to confront him on his defects. While he felt perfectly chastened by Georgiana, he was also quite pleased that she was breaking free from her shell.

No… As attractive and appealing as Gretna Green seemed to be, Darcy would not deny his sister's presence at his wedding. He suspected Elizabeth also felt the same way about her sisters.

Despite his initial impressions, Darcy was attempting to overlook the younger Bennets' silliness. While the girls were for the most part ridiculous in their own rights, he was able to find some admirable traits.

Mary Bennet was knowledgeable and took her training very severely. She did not tolerate weakness and would often be found pouring over a book on how to improve various parts of her body and how to strengthen her techniques. This would follow into long sessions in the dojo where she would train with either one of her sisters or even Georgiana. In fact, the two were developing a kinship over their craft and Mary being a couple years older than his sister, found an astute student who was willing to listen and practice her theories.

Then there was Catherine "Kitty" Bennet. It was apparent she was a follower and was often trailing behind Lydia. Elizabeth did share how the two had a closeness very much similar to the closeness she had with Jane and was only too grateful that Kitty did not follow Wickham too. Of course, Kitty insisted she saw through Wickham's charms, claiming he was a lout, but Elizabeth suspected that there were some hurt feelings that he had not considered her over Lydia being a year older and everything. Nevertheless, Kitty had been the one to learn about the plot after eavesdropping on Lydia and Wickham. Once she overcame her jealousy, Kitty went to her father about the matter and the rest was history. However, hurt feelings or not, Kitty was too happy to be reunited with her sister and it was all bygones. Her loyalty was something to be admired and Darcy observed that Kitty did have a talent for stealth. She could sneak up on her sisters with a surprise attack, and none would be the wiser she was even around. It was a skill that very few possessed in his opinion.

Lastly, there was Lydia Bennet.

Since his arrival at Rosings, Darcy had not actively sought out the youngest Bennet to see how she was faring. He could see plainly that she was well and heard from countless others how her character had improved after the daring rescue. Some might consider him indifferent from not speaking to the actual source, but Darcy still had his own demons to battle. He still blamed himself for Lydia's plight and did not want to embarrass the girl or let her be reminded of his scruples. He was satisfied knowing from those close to her, her well-being and let it be that. Even Lydia kept her distance from her savior but it was not until the eve of his wedding that she had approached him in the parlor room.

Darcy kept his astonishment to himself as Lydia demurely stood beside him and Mr. Bingley. She engaged in a civil conversation with Bingley but Darcy had the distinct impression that she was watching him from the corner of her eye. His hunch was proven true when she politely requested a moment of Mr. Darcy's time to speak on a matter that was important. Bingley acquiesced and Darcy was solely on his own. It did not matter that they were in a room full of people… Darcy found himself in a predicament that he knew not how to flee, and yet, everyone seemed to be watching even if they gave no indication that they were.

Swallowing, Darcy turned his head to look down at her as Lydia lifted her eyes to look at him directly.

"I have been working on my courage to come to speak to you Mr. Darcy," she said. "I have seen and faced many a difficult challenge with a zombie and I am no stranger in speaking my opinion on matters that do not concern me or anything in general. I am—was a foolish girl who did what she wished regardless of the consequence. I freely chose to go along with Mr. Wickham thinking that I knew enough about him and that it was all some jolly good joke. Little did I know that the joke was on me and you risked your life to save me. What I mean to say Mr. Darcy is this: Thank you. Thank you for saving me from the zombies and for returning me to my home and family. There is not much or enough I can do to repay you the generous gift you bestowed on me, but I am seeking the possible chance you may forgive me for my transgressions that did put you and my sisters at risk for looking for me. There is a debt between us and I will endeavor to do what you wish to make repentance."

It was incredible how the Bennets never ceased to amaze him. He did not expect Lydia to feel she was indebted to _him_ when he had been indebted to her family for his grievous behavior. But Lydia had the same stubborn streak that his Elizabeth had and she would not leave until she knew she was forgiven on all accounts.

He conceded. The smile that blossomed from her was all that needed to be said and she bowed her head in respect.

Perhaps he was wrong after all. Lydia conducted herself with the utmost courtesy and level-headedness that he could not believe this was the same Lydia Bennet who made herself a fool in front of polite society with her overzealous behavior with officers and any young man within a mile radius. He was truly mistaken in presuming the family did not know how to behave in the realm of proper society.

Then he witnessed Lydia sneaking a sip of her mother's wine before skipping off to Kitty where the two began to uproariously giggle.

 _Maybe a little hasty in my assessment_ , he thought with a grimace. _However, there is a good chance that she won't become her mother._

It was also a blessing he would not have to consider Elizabeth turning into Mrs. Bennet. Indeed, it will be a true test to his testament of being a gentleman and warrior if he does not behead his mother-in-law.

xxXXxx

At last the day had arrived.

Within a few hours the Misses Jane and Elizabeth Bennet will become Mrs. Charles Bingley and Mrs. Elizabeth Darcy, respectively.

It was difficult to believe that they were finally going to be walking down the aisle. Not so much with Jane… but with Elizabeth this was a reality she did not know would be hers. For many years she had rebelled at the notion of marriage, insisting no man on _Earth_ could tempt her into the Blessed Sacrament and having her give up part of herself as a warrior. Then she met Fitzwilliam Darcy and he turned her head in a way she never thought possible. From out of loathing came love and wild, abandoned passion. He committed the act of ultimate sacrifice to preserve her family and bore the scars as proof of his unrequited feelings for her. He humbled himself in order to make himself worthy of her affections and felt honored that she would be at his side in this never-ending battle against the undead. Never once had he asked her to give up who she was or tell her that her love for the deadly arts was improper or unladylike. Never once did he hint or suggest that her place would be in the home once they have children. He was going to leave it to her and her judgment on what she wanted with their family.

How could she be so fortunate to have found someone so understanding and so much like her in mind and spirit? And to think she had dismissed him as being too proud, too vain, and too selfish for his own good.

Of course, Darcy was willing to give her the second chance as long as she was willing to do the same for him. She had not realized it at the time but when she saw him on the battle field dispensing with the zombies in that unmarked graveyard… She had already forgiven him for all their misunderstandings and mistakes. She knew then she loved him with all her heart, however, she had been afraid it was too late. How could he ever love her after she rejected him thusly? Then he misled her to believe St. Lazarus had fallen so he could rescue her sister…

A soft smile played on her lips as she recognized how much they were willing to forfeit for the other's happiness. Even she risked life and death to cross the bridge and find him. And when she saw Wickham raise his arm with that sword to finish Darcy off… She knew she would do anything to save him.

"Oh Lizzy… you look so beautiful!"

Breaking from her trance, Elizabeth turned as Jane pressed her hands over her face as she stared at her sister with tears starting to gather.

"Now, Jane, don't you start!" Elizabeth warned her teasingly. "I don't know if I will be able to keep it together if you start crying."

Jane laughed. "I am so terribly happy! We are going to be married to the loves of our lives soon and I can't also help but think... This is the last time we will be together like this."

It was not until Jane mentioned it that Elizabeth realized what she meant. This was the last time they would help each other dress, do their hair, and confide in one another with their secrets… In a few short hours they will be wives and live in separate homes.

"We will still see each other," Elizabeth insisted. "Our husbands are the best of friends. We will probably spend so much time together that it won't feel like we are separate."

"Quite right. It's just—" Jane paused as she nibbled her lower lip. "I will miss you."

"And I you," Elizabeth told her, reaching for her hand and squeezing it. "Even if our husbands should ever get into a disagreement—we will make them make amends so we can visit each other."

Jane chuckled at the remark. "I don't think that would ever happen. Charles is so amiable and agreeable that I doubt he knows a cross word."

"He sees the good in everyone. Like you." Elizabeth gave her sister's hand another comforting squeeze just as the door flew opened and Mrs. Bennet came rushing in.

"Mama!" The girls gave a start but relaxed when it was only their mother as they set down their knives.

Mrs. Bennet frowned at the sight of the weapons, curtly saying, "I do hope you girls are not planning on arming yourselves during the wedding."

"Of course Mama," Elizabeth answered. "A warrior needs to be prepared."

"Well, I am sure you 'warriors' can let it be for just one day," the matriarch retorted. "The last thing we need is a wedding guest being attacked."

"Mama, the undead will not stop for a wedding," Elizabeth said.

Her mother snorted, rolling her eyes disdainfully. "There has not been a sighting in these past months since Hingham and you know that."

"Be as it may," Elizabeth muttered.

Jane wisely stepped in to change the subject. "We are almost ready. Have the guests arrived?"

Mrs. Bennet sighed, her coloring flushed. "They are all here! Your Aunt and Uncle Phillips, the Gardiners, and every relative that was able to make it without incident. Miss Lucas and Sir Lucas are here as well. Apparently, Lady Lucas was feeling under the weather and was unable to come. That over indulgent self-important prig! She expects _me_ to show for her daughter's wedding, but she does not return the favor for mine! I know it's jealousy she must be feeling; although, it would have been nice for her to make an appearance so she can see how well off my girls are."

Jane and Elizabeth exchanged looks and thought it best not to further agitate Mrs. Bennet and the conspicuous absence of Lady Lucas.

"Anyways, I have come here to make sure you are ready and also to talk to you about something important." Mrs. Bennet took a deep breath as she strode over to the bed and patted on both sides for Jane and Elizabeth to sit.

Feeling slightly wary, Elizabeth took a seat on her mother's left side while Jane took the right.

"Now, there is a matter concerning your wifely duty," Mrs. Bennet began. "I cannot stress it enough how important you girls must obey your husbands. Even you Lizzy must get off your high horse and listen to Mr. Darcy. What it is expected on your wedding night may come as a shock and I will try to be as delicate as I can be."

"Actually Mama—" Elizabeth started to say but Jane's quick shaking of her head stopped Elizabeth from finishing that they already knew thanks in part to Master Liu. "—you were saying?"

She regretted not listening to Jane as Mrs. Bennet proceeded to explain in great detail and explicit gestures what was to come later this evening. While none of it did not disturb her sensibilities, Elizabeth felt her mother was overdoing the purpose of the wedding night. Jane, on the other hand, listened intently with her wide blue eyes and even blushed several times for good measured. Oddly, Elizabeth did not find the prospect as daunting as her mother appeared to be making. She and Darcy had already a taste of their marital bliss and she was eager to know her husband completely. With Jane, though, Elizabeth did not think that she and Mr. Bingley ever acquainted themselves on the acts of _amour_.

Mrs. Bennet concluded her speech with a flourish, standing up and wiping her hands on her skirt after completing such a grueling task. "The best advice I can offer is to let your husband be the guide. And do not fret. He may only come to you once or twice a month. It's an arrangement that can be satisfied for both parties."

As she began walking to the door, Mrs. Bennet looked back as she began to give a watery smile. "Married. My two lovely daughters will be married to wealthy gentlemen. How can I be so blessed?"

With the door closed, the two sisters burst into silent laughter, relieved as they were for the diversion. Yet they were not done as they resumed the final touches.

xxXXxx

As excited as she was, Elizabeth was experiencing some restlessness. She had forgone her morning exercises at Jane's insistence that they could go one day without training. As prudent as it sounded with the preparation that was required, Elizabeth wished she did steal a few minutes to work out the tension.

In fact, it was why she was currently in the garden to meditate before she had to leave for the church. She would have preferred the actual doing of her training, but she was in her wedding dress and she wanted to keep it pristine and free from any tell-tale signs of labor.

Elizabeth was nearing the end of her ruminations when she heard a rustling sound behind her. Quickly, she went for the blade in her garter as she stood her ground as the intruder made his entrance.

"Elizabeth!?"

"Fitzwilliam?!"

The two lovers stood, aghast, as they stared at the other.

To Darcy, Elizabeth was clearly a sight to behold: her chestnut brown hair was partially pulled back in a simple braid that was held in place with pearl hairpins, leaving the rest of her tresses in loose waves cascading past her shoulders; small pearl teardrop earrings adorned her lobes; her lips a blushing rose and cheeks a light pink (mostly from being startled); her gown, a creation of beauty in its ivory silk and matching spencer, simple and elegant with little detail apart from along the hem with flowers sewn all around, the centers dotted with tiny pearls, and long gloves covering her arms.

Stunning, simply stunning.

Even armed with her knife Elizabeth was a vision unlike any other, which only enhanced her beauty and dangerous air. A combination that Darcy found to be sheer perfection.

To Elizabeth, he was cut dashingly in his leather trench-coat over his black cravat and vest, even down to his black trousers and boots. She noticed he had his katana strapped to his side and could not help her smirk as he was of the same mind as she too came armed.

Warriors through and through, even on their wedding day.

She reached down to draw back her skirt so she could return her knife in its proper place, then straightened as her soon-to-be husband cleared his throat.

"I thought I would go for a stroll before the ceremony," he explained. "Fresh air and all."

"Yes," she agreed. "I was meditating."

"I am sorry I disturbed you—"

"It's all right! I'm… I'm happy to see you."

He found himself crimsoning at her words. "Elizabeth, you are… no words can describe what I'm feeling right now…"

"I know. I can see it in your eyes." She smiled for the both of them as he was torn from wanting to take her in his arms and kissing her senseless or to forfeit the ceremony and consecrate their vows right then and now. The church… the whole to-do was a formality that Darcy felt was unnecessary. Elizabeth was his wife as he was her husband and he was anxious to begin their lives rather than live through the pomp and circumstance.

Before he could suggest an idea, the church bell was starting to ring and they realized their absence was going to be noticed.

"We should go," he said.

She nodded. "I will see you soon."

As Darcy walked back, he stopped and glanced over his shoulder. "Is this bad luck if I see the bride too early?"

Elizabeth chortled. "I do not believe so but even if it is… it's too late. I have given you my consent, sir, and my mother has this wedding planned to the letter. If you should decide to quit yourself, then you have mother of the bride to contend yourself and I highly recommend you do not upset the lady."

xxXXxx

"We are gathered here today to celebrate this man and this woman… And this man and this woman in holy matrimony."

Upon each utterance, Mr. Collins pointed to Bingley and Jane, and then Darcy and Elizabeth. His usual facetious countenance was subdue and solemn, not the over-the-top and inappropriate traits that would ensue once he opened his mouth. If Elizabeth was not mistaken, she swore there was a tear barely hanging to his lashes as he droned on about the merits of matrimony and the expectations from each couple. It was indeed shocking for her cousin to be somewhat conventional.

The rest of the church was silent apart from the occasional sob from Mrs. Bennet and a not so discrete trumpeting noise as she blew into her handkerchief. Regardless of her joy at the prospect of having _two_ married daughters, Mrs. Bennet was coming to terms what that actually meant and was now overwhelmed with unbearable grief that she was _losing_ her girls. Later, she will retract her previous sentiments and be gleeful on the knowledge of gaining _two_ very handsome and rich sons-in-law.

Elizabeth caught her father's sardonic eye-roll and placating, thin-lipped smile as he patted his wife's hand with sympathy. Her sisters were not feeling overdramatic as their mother and Lydia and Kitty were simultaneously yawning over Mr. Collins's diatribe. On the contrary, Mary was absorbed in the sermon and was imperceptibly nodding along with his remarks.

Georgiana Darcy was all smiles and glowing happiness for her big brother that her features had not changed once the ceremony started. Lady Catherine was detached and impassive as her wont, yet Elizabeth sensed her equanimity and gratification for she had said she could not imagine a better wife and warrior for her nephew. Her daughter, Anne, was unintelligent and vacuous in her features that not even her surroundings could bring about a hint of recognition. Fortunately, Mrs. Jenkinson continued to serve as her proxy as she dabbed her misty eyes.

Likewise, Caroline Bingley followed the de Bourghs example and remained as indifferent as she could despite everything. It was a small wonder that her brother was one of the grooms given her apathy towards the ceremony. However, she was still harboring a grudging attitude to one Miss Elizabeth Bennet for not only stealing away her chances of becoming Mrs. Darcy herself, but also for making her the laughingstock among the servants at Rosings and all of Kent. Indeed, the news spread about the well-to-do lady who soiled herself exceedingly that it took the work of three sturdy brushes to clean up the mess. However, true to her word, she kept her distance from Miss Darcy and her brother, the only redeeming quality in her.

The vows were straightforward and plain but the resounding "I will" spoke loud volumes to each person towards their respective significant others. The ring exchange followed soon after and finally Mr. Collins was nearing the end to his _punctilio_ where Elizabeth was waiting with abated breath.

"I now pronounce you man and wife. And man and wife. You may now kiss Mr. Darcy—the brides! You may now kiss the brides." Mr. Collins's slip would have been noticed were it not for the fact that each couple was anxious to seal their vows with the first of matrimonial kisses that his faux pas was instantly forgiven.

As Bingley and Jane, and then Darcy and Elizabeth took one another in their embrace, the clamorous applause from the guests rose around them, and Mr. Collins could not help his adoring fawning and sighs for the happily wedded couples. Of course, the applause he also believed was for his impressive and magnificent deliverance that he hardly believed he could outdo himself, and that he must have touched so many souls with his inspirational elocution.

Touching his forehead delicately to hers, Darcy released a shaky exhale as he murmured, "Hello Mrs. Darcy."

Cheekily, Elizabeth responded: "Hello Mr. Bennet."

Darcy's chuckle was infectious as she laughed in kind; hardly believing this has now come to pass. Married… She was a married woman and to a man who worshipped her and loved her entirely.

Already her cheeks were aching from all the smiling she was doing, but Elizabeth had no regrets, as she and Darcy and Jane and Bingley marched out of the church and to the awaiting guests who were eagerly anticipating catching a glimpse of the blissfully radiant couples.

The sun was beaming brightly, perfectly capturing the emotions and cheers of all their loved ones. In fact, Elizabeth could not recall a lovelier day with the clear blue sky and a few wispy clouds above. Nothing could darken or blight this moment as she took her now husband's hand and gazed tenderly into his dark brown eyes.

Darcy was all at once affected with his wife upon his arm that his only impulse was to shower her with his affections and show how much he loved this woman. Since he was no longer constrained by society's dictations and he could do as he pleased, Darcy decided to take advantage and give Elizabeth the proper respect.

Bingley, too, was of a similar mind as each couple stopped above the archway and bestowed the doting attentions on their wives. For Elizabeth and Darcy, their attention was solely on the other as they worshipped and tasted the sweetness clinging to them, whispering promises of passion and love. Their thoughts turned to the anticipation and excitement of the marriage bed and had to wonder how long their presence would be required for the wedding breakfast.

Breaking apart was a Herculean chore but nothing could prevent the jovial grins as they looked upon their friends and family who continued to clap and shout for joy as petals fluttered all over them.

It was time to take those steps to their future.

Elizabeth had her arm wrapped securely around Darcy, her other hand warmly trapped in his as he stroked the silken glove. She rested her cheek on his shoulder, breathing in contently, as she stole a peek towards Jane and her husband.

Bingley clasped his beloved's hand in his, bringing it to his lips and pressing a reverent kiss on her gloved knuckles.

Indeed, they were a fetching couple and maddeningly in love as Elizabeth and Darcy were for each other.

It was unfortunate on what transpired next.

Very distantly, Elizabeth thought she heard something. Scanning around the myriad of smiling faces she could not detect what could be making such a noise. Darcy's grip on her tightened which bringing her attention to the forefront, Elizabeth could scarcely believe what she saw out yonder.

Even Jane and Bingley had lost their smiling features as all four came to a halt at the horizon.

Coincidentally, the rest of the wedding party also stopped in their celebrations as they turned to see what had captured the married couples' attentions so soberly.

It started with a gasp, then a cry, and an outburst that sent the guests scrambling for shelter.

Lady Catherine let out a shrill whistle and a battle scream very much like a Banshee coming for its victim as the Black Guard instantly took their positions to secure the church. Her sword was unsheathed and a pistol were hoisted in the air as she continued her relentless screeching, fire in her cold eye, as her horse was instantly brought to her side.

The commotion was chaotic and confusing, but those who were armed were already taking battle stances as those who lacked the skill and training fled for safety. Not even Mrs. Bennet's screams could pierce the air as her husband seized her by the elbow and practically dragged her away. Mr. Collins followed his relatives at the heels, all the while shouting, "Oh fuddle! Oh fuddle!"

Mrs. Jenkinson tried taking her charge but Anne de Bourgh watched with a tilted look as the uproarious groans and shouts grew intensely.

For you see, from across the field and the neighboring forest, was a rampaging stampede of zombies coming directly towards them. A quick estimate put their numbers over a hundred, but even as small as that may sound, a hungry horde of the undead can have a devastating impact and the destruction difficult to repair.

One thing for certain, this ambush was not going to ruin this happy occasion.

Elizabeth and Darcy immediately pulled out their weapons after giving the other a swift nod. Joined together in wedlock, the two will be joined together in battle, and in a strange, twisted way, they could not have been more thrilled at the prospect. Likewise, Jane and Bingley were also armed and while the latter was not exactly looking forward to the impending fight to the death, he would die protecting his bride.

Meanwhile, Jane was of the same mind in that she would do whatever she could to protect her dear, sweet Charles; even stopping him from throwing his life to protect hers.

Lady Catherine approached the couples, her horse quietly neighing as his hoof beat the gravel. She squinted her eye and commented almost casually: "Is that the soldier who appealed to me for funds?"

Indeed for it was none other than George Wickham leading the cavalry of the undead with the Four Horsemen of the Apocalypse behind him.

While the nightmarish sight alone should have sent chills of fright down the warriors' spines, the group (in particular Darcy) felt only annoyance that Mr. Wickham should return once more.

"That vile bastard!"

Elizabeth twisted to see her sisters taking up their arms; Lydia, her lips drawn back in a furious sneer, as she saw the man who had lured her away on false pretenses and had almost came close into turning her into a zombie. Each and every one of the Bennet girls had a similar expression of revulsion and contempt upon seeing the former charming officer. They were not going to back down from the fight and there was a promise of vengeance alit in their steely eyes.

"Brother!"

Georgiana Darcy materialized at Darcy's side, a battle ax swinging in her grasp and a flint revolver attached to her belt. She saw her former suitor and had the same cool and scornful look as the Bennet sisters.

"I see he has joined them," she responded disdainfully.

"Georgiana," Darcy said. "You should go to the church. It will be much safer there."

She cocked her head to the side as she glared at him. "My place is here. I will not leave you or my sister." Georgiana nodded to Elizabeth who understood where Darcy was coming from, but understood the young woman's desire to squash the zombies.

"We will need all the help," Elizabeth softly reminded him and Darcy saw no other option but to concede.

"But promise me—"

"Yes Fitz," Georgiana replied impatiently. "Do not worry."

He scoffed. "If only I could."

"The same applies to you Mrs. Darcy."

Elizabeth, startled, lifted her eyes to Lady Catherine. The fierce-some warrior, the Defender of England, kept her even stare ahead but her visage would brook no argument.

"You are too much of an asset to fall in battle, even today of days," Lady Catherine spoke rigidly. "It will be an honor to fight beside you, but I am calling in the debt you owe me. If we are overwhelmed, then you and Darcy must leave. You will live to fight another day."

"Lady Catherine—" Elizabeth started.

"You heard me! God speed all of you!" Rearing back, Lady Catherine lifted her sword and ordered: "CHARGE!"

Her horse broke off into a galloping speed as the rest of her men followed suit. Almost a dozen or so were on foot and took positions all along the property to prevent any zombie from breaching the grounds and to keep the guests safe from being ravaged to death.

Elizabeth knew not how many of the Black Guard charged on the field, clashing with the zombies, but the numbers seemed slightly less than the undead. Either way, these men were trained to fight to their very last breath. However, there was no time to dawdle or think about the odds when the zombies were practically on their doorstep.

"I love you," Darcy said as he launched into a shout and ran to the closest zombie.

"I love you," Elizabeth replied as she also ran and effectively beheading the zombie in a clean swipe. She did not give notice to the blood spraying across her dress as she was soon engaged with another zombie desperately hungry for her brain.

The bloody battle under wage at the present moment, Elizabeth fought with the agility and grace she always maintained, never stopping for a second, even when the bodies started to pile at her feet. Her mind was occupied in the mental count for each unmentionable perished at her blades and keeping Darcy within her eyesight. She was not going to lose him and when she noticed a zombie coming at him in his blind spot, Elizabeth propelled herself into the air by using the back of a zombie as a leaping post and skewered the zombie's heart before he could reach her husband.

Breathing heavily, Elizabeth had a moment of reprieve before she was swinging her arm again at another zombie—a female—and spilled her entrails to the grass.

Darcy was in awe at the sheer magnitude and strength of his wife and how he was indeed a lucky man for winning such a deadly beauty. Taking his pistol, he aimed and fired a shot at the zombie behind her, hitting the creature square in the eyes. Elizabeth thankfully saluted him and they were once more back in action.

Further away, Jane and Bingley were back-to-back as a group of zombies surrounded them. Bingley felt somewhat ashamed that he only had a knife and knew he should have listened to Darcy about bringing his firearm; of course, the time for regrets surpassed and he had to do his best to make sure he did not lose what was precious to him. Or even lose his knife to the slippery coating of blood that covered his fingers.

Jane held out her butterfly knives before her, her blue eyes unwavering and unblinking as she calmly told her husband what to do. "Aim for their throats. Quick in and out so you can get the next one."

Bingley shuddered but managed to give her the affirmative.

"On my call. One… two…" Before she counted three, the four zombies in front of Bingley were suddenly run through and a scream unlike any other had the zombies flung to the side. Jane could not see who it was that came to their aid, but disposed her lot promptly. When she at last was able to see their savior, she was pleasantly astonished to find Caroline Bingley holding a _rokushakubō_. The redhead quickly reached into her dress and pulled out a short but long pistol and tossed it to her brother.

"You forgot this!" she told him and Bingley was indebted to her right then. At least he felt he had a fighting chance.

As the three Bingleys were actively busy, the other three Bennet sisters were merrily conducting their massacre, turning it into a game on how many zombies they could kill.

"Twelve!" Lydia declared triumphantly but Elizabeth came running past her, exclaiming, "Sixteen!"

"Cheater!" Lydia shouted back.

Georgiana was doing remarkably well, and Elizabeth had no doubt she would. Watching her new sister handle the battle ax was very impressive. Georgiana hacked away and swung her weapon as she knocked one zombie after the other out. Darcy's concern was for naught as one wise zombie decided to run away from Georgiana, but the girl was not to be deterred as she gave chase with a shriek.

However, the shocking event came when Elizabeth heard an unnatural growl and she spun around as Anne de Bourgh launched herself into a zombie, her teeth going right for the jugular. She pulled the flesh apart, blood jetting across the zombie's face and down Anne's torso. Her gray eyes were lively with the bloodlust and were soon on another zombie, ripping and tearing and mauling. Darcy's cousin was animalistic in her methods that Elizabeth paused and wondered if Anne de Bourgh might be infected…

Yet, she had no time to muse over the thought as Elizabeth found herself standing face-to-face with one of the Horsemen. There was no ignoring that the smartly dressed figure was not a pallbearer she was once formerly led to believe and Elizabeth found herself swallowing hard in spite.

The creature had no expression on his face other than the vacant, emptying eye holes that were black and bottomless. Elizabeth gathered her wits and was ready to strike when the Horseman shifted its barren gaze to behind her that she had no choice but to follow as her eyes widened to find Darcy locked once more in battle with the devil incarnate himself.

"Wickham," she snarled to herself and turned back to the Horseman but her murderous look shifted to bafflement as the thing had disappeared. Not bothering to give it another thought, Elizabeth ran towards her husband with the intent that when she decapitated Wickham's limb… she will make sure he won't be able to lift anything anymore.

Darcy knew the confrontation was inevitable. When he recognized Wickham among the charging horde, he knew he would face his enemy again. This time, though, Darcy was determined not to be under Wickham's hold as the truth of his condition was no longer a secret. Wickham was a zombie and he would meet his demise under Darcy's katana.

Predictably, Wickham aimed for Darcy upon his horse and when he came near, Darcy quickly slashed through the air, cutting down the horse's gallop as the animal twisted and screeched in pain. Wickham was dislodged from the saddle and rolled away to avoid being pinned by the beast. Jumping to his feet, Wickham rotated his arm and the sharpened candlestick attached to it. He may not be able to hold a sword, but he could yield this weapon like one.

"Here we are Fitz," he taunted. "This time my army will be victorious. The Apocalypse will be upon the living. You have no hope in winning today."

"You are awfully sure of yourself George," Darcy spat. "You thought you won last time. This won't be any different."

"Like Hell it will!"

Lunging, Wickham brought the metal rod down as Darcy blocked him, shooting sparks from the impact.

"Look at me!"

Darcy had little choice as he looked into Wickham's fiery red eyes, half-crazed and half-demented.

"You will fail. The living cannot withstand the sheer power of the undead. It is inevitable Fitz. There is no point in you trying to fight something that has been prophesized from the start of Creation!"

Darcy grunted his arms trembling as he tried to keep Wickham from bearing down on him. There was no denying his opponent's supernatural strength, but Darcy was not going to be chided.

"Delusions! That is all you have George." With all the force he could muster, Darcy gripped the handle of his katana and pushed all his might for Wickham to shift his balance. Seizing his opportunity, Darcy swung his fist into George's chest, causing the undead leader to stagger.

But Wickham was also fast. Using his good arm, Wickham connected with Darcy's rib and kicked him hard so Darcy fell to the ground. Crying out loud, Wickham brought his right arm down.

Darcy tucked his arms in as he twisted away from his face being smashed in and slipping on the blood-covered grass he was able to get to his feet but not before Wickham caught him. Darcy screamed in agony as one of the sharp ends from Wickham's arm pierced his leg.

Grinning smugly, Wickham drew back to see the tip coated in Darcy's blood. The warrior covered the wound with his hand, while the other still held his katana, but the blood was seeping from the spot and it was too difficult to tell if Wickham cut an artery. Yet Darcy kept standing as he gritted his teeth, hissing through the pain.

"Ah, Fitz. I tried to tell you but proud fool that you are… You won't listen."

He heard a feminine shout and Darcy looked to see, fearing and dreading it was his wife, but watched helplessly as a zombie took hold of Caroline and sunk his teeth into her fleshly arm. Another zombie crawling on the ground had her by the ankle and was also biting into the morsel it found.

Horror and shock covered her features and there was little that could be done as she collapsed under the weight of the zombies. Her screams continued to echo through the field as Bingley's distraught cry of "Caroline!" reverberated. He ran to his sister's side and shot both zombies feasting on her. Jane was soon next to him, fighting off another zombie, as Bingley fell to his knees and cradled his dying sister.

He heard another scream as Darcy witnessed some of his aunt's Black Guards also falling victim to the zombie's ferocious hunger. However, he had seen Lady Catherine on the ground, her horse becoming a zombie's appetizer, and she was still swinging away like a madwoman, bent on the need for annihilation. Similarly, Georgiana, Lydia, Kitty, and Mary were still locked in combat but from what he could see… they were not in danger or injured.

He was relieved knowing that his sister was among family and friends. The Bennet sisters were defending her as if she was one of their own and did his heart good to see Georgiana succeeding in her fight.

"I don't know what I enjoy more," Wickham said, laughter in his tone. "Having you at my mercy or watching your world fall apart. But I think I know of the perfect punishment… One that will have you begging for death." He paused for dramatic effect, making sure he had his audience's attention. "I will turn you but you won't become completely undead like these all hunger and nothing more. No… I will save that for later after you watch me take that lovely Elizabeth Bennet as my bride. She will make the perfect zombie Queen. And you will become one of my mindless slaves, forever doing my bidding. Quite poetic, I must say."

The blood from Darcy's injury continued to drip, the pressure he was putting on it was not enough, and to his bereft, he fell. The effort to keep standing was too much and Darcy was running out of time if he left his injury untended.

"You keep forgetting too George," Darcy managed to say, spitting at him. "I am not alone."

Before Wickham could question him, Elizabeth was there in front of her husband, her hair flying in the air, as she turned her cold eyes on the soldier.

"You should have stayed on the other side of Hingham," she warned him, brandishing her knives as Wickham used both arms to protect his face. Hearing him scream was a delicious sound to her ears as she forcibly drew her knives back, the wave of blood also flying through the air as she came back down and aimed for any vulnerable spot.

Wickham was livid. To be captured off-guard once by the avenging woman was one thing, but for a repeat? Without thinking, he lashed back but Elizabeth knew his emotions was running high and his technique was sloppy to say the least as he blindly fought back.

Dropping to her knees, Elizabeth sliced his calves and then swung upward as she removed a couple of his fingers.

Wickham lifted his hand as one finger barely hung on a tendon. Then with another swish—Elizabeth chopped off his hand.

Mouth gaping, Wickham raised his right only to be met with an ax protruding from his chest.

Elizabeth turned behind as Georgiana, fists clenched together, strode over to them. "That was for destroying my family!" the young Darcy exclaimed.

A throwing star whizzed past the women and embedded itself above his heart. A second one rammed into his belly. The third… It was astutely located in the groin.

Lydia joined her sister and Georgiana as she stared down at the traitor.

"That was for me," she told him in case he couldn't figure it out.

Wickham made a gasping sound in the back of his throat, but nothing compared to the terrified expression as the Four Horsemen silently circled him.

Elizabeth and the others watched with morbid fascination as each Horseman placed their hands on the soldier, the touch burning Wickham from the inside out as he released an ungodly wail. The ground beneath them shook and trembled, finally crumbling around Wickham and the Horsemen, as they made their descent to the pits of Hell.

As soon as they vanished, the hole disappeared leaving nothing but the grass and the smooth ground behind.

Elizabeth knelt beside her husband who had gone chalk white mostly from the shock. Ripping her hem, Elizabeth made a tourniquet and placed her hand over his wound. Gazing into his eyes, she smiled.

It was over.

The living won.

The End


End file.
